


here comes the storm

by greymahariel (acceptnosubstitutes)



Series: command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Awkward Sexual Situations, Companionable Snark, DLC Spoilers, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt, Experimental Style, Foreshadowing, Friendship, M/M, Nicknames, Nostalgia, Suggestive Themes, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, bad language, communication issues, emotion, half vague meta, secret crushes, terrible puns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-19
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 05:33:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 61
Words: 15,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2801423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acceptnosubstitutes/pseuds/greymahariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elijah Lavellan - tempest, little elf, and (if you <i>particularly</i> have a death wish) little ball of rage - has a glowy hand and a headache full of problems as leader of the second Inquisition. Many of them start with his choices in friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. nicknames

**Author's Note:**

> Right, so, this is basically just a collection of party banter/ambient dialogue/etc. that the Inquisitor might be involved in, if they were, y'know, not the PC. Also, some random drabbles in the future, though not sure whether to make them chapters or separate works in a series. To be determined. For the moment, ones I plan to expand on will have a note attached.
> 
> Rating may change eventually. Character and other tags updated as needed. Any necessary trigger warnings will be included in the other tags section. Spoilers noted by chapter in the summary.

Varric: Little elf!  
Lavellan: Excuse me?  
Varric: You're tiny, but we already have a tiny. And...elfy. Little elf. It's the perfect nickname!  
Lavellan: I'm perfectly satisfied with my name, actually.

 **Optional Companion Commentary** :

Solas: (pauses) Fitting.  
Lavellan: I think I might actually hate you now.  
Solas: Such hostility! Perhaps "aggravated" little elf, then?  
Varric: It doesn't have any ring to it. Hmm. Angry? Too obvious. Irritated? Not strong enough.  
Lavellan: I am standing, right here.  
Varric: I've got it! _Ragey_ little elf!  
Lavellan: (put upon sigh)

Cassandra: (amused) It does sound...strangely endearing.  
Lavellan: You're not serious.  
Cassandra: What did you call me when we last spoke? Delightful?  
Lavellan: Not anymore.

Iron Bull: I like it.  
Lavellan: Of course you do.  
Iron Bull: But I have a suggestion.  
Varric: Oh?  
Iron Bull: He's an _elf_. Too obvious. So. Little...ball of rage. Cute, but also _ferocious_.  
Lavellan: This "little ball of rage" employs you all, you know.


	2. archdemons and communication

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> General spoilers for Blackwall's second personal quest.

Lavellan: Blackwall.  
Blackwall: Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: Say Corypheus's dragon turns out to be an Archdemon.  
Blackwall: I would hope not.  
Lavellan: And only a Grey Warden can kill an Archdemon, yes?  
Blackwall: So I've heard.  
Lavellan: But we only have _one_ Grey Warden immediately available after Adamant.  
Blackwall: ...  
Lavellan: As in, you.  
Blackwall: ...  
Lavellan: Who is, in fact, not actually a Grey Warden at all.  
Blackwall: You're never going to let that go, are you?  
Varric: (chuckles) Not likely.

Lavellan: Blackwall, are you aware there was a solution to your "problem" all along?  
Blackwall: ...  
Lavellan: Right in front of you, actually.  
Blackwall: ...  
Lavellan: It's called "talking to your understanding and largely sympathetic _friend_ and very _influential_ inquisitor".  
Blackwall: I -  
Lavellan: As in, me.  
Blackwall: Lavellan.  
Lavellan: As in, talking. To me. You may have heard of the concept, yes?  
Blackwall: ...Maker, help me.  
Lavellan: I hear you two haven't spoken in ages either.


	3. don't panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You bet your ass I plan to expand on awkward drunken sex morning after.

Cullen: Inquisitor...if I might have a word?  
Lavellan: Of course.  
Cullen: What happened the other night…  
Lavellan: (gently) Cullen, it happened. We agreed to move on and keep it between us.  
Cullen: And I’m grateful, believe me. Just, I’m ashamed at how I reacted.  
Lavellan: Cullen -  
Cullen: No. I practically accused you of, of -  
Lavellan: Oh. That. Yeah, okay. That was a little low.  
Cullen: And I feel terrible about it.  
Lavellan: I really should’ve warned you when Bull gave you that drink.  
Cullen: Warned me?  
Lavellan: Yeah. That wasn’t...ale. In fact, I have no idea what that shit is. Except that it’s _strong_.  
Cullen: (chuckles) I might have an idea.  
Lavellan: It would’ve have helped if I hadn’t had...three of them already.  
Cullen: Seriously? I could barely finish one!  
Lavellan: It wasn’t my first time. Let’s just leave it at that.  
Cullen: I intend to.  
Lavellan: Cullen…  
Cullen: Yes?  
Lavellan: When I flirt with you...you know I’m just fucking with you, right?  
Cullen: (sighs)  
Lavellan: If it bothers you that much, I can stop. It’s just teasing. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  
Cullen: Promise not to laugh?  
Lavellan: What?  
Cullen: I don’t want you to. Stop. At this point...it’d be more awkward, if you did.  
Lavellan: I fail to see how this situation could be any more awkward than it already is.  
Cullen: (pauses) You might have a point. Still. Don’t.


	4. the dalish and wolf eyes

Lavellan: Solas. I have a question.  
Solas: Yes?  
Lavellan: Did you happen to talk to the clan you met the same way you're talking to me, right now? Because I _maybe_ see a reason.  
Lavellan: Normally, _we_ prefer to be the condescendingly superior ones, actually.  
Varric: Can't you two elves play nice?  
Lavellan: I just met this guy five minutes ago, Varric. _Five minutes_!

Solas: Lavellan, your eyes...  
Lavellan: What about them?  
Solas: They are most unusual.  
Lavellan: Oh. Because of the color?  
Dorian: It _is_ curious. Do many of your people have yellow eyes?  
Lavellan: Not really. I was somewhat of an oddity, even among my own clan.  
Dorian: A most _delightful_ oddity, I'm sure.  
Lavellan: (chuckles)  
Lavellan: Some of the more superstitious among them called them wolf eyes. Considered it a bad omen.  
Lavellan: So you can see why attending the Conclave wasn't really a chore, no?  
Solas: ...  
Lavellan: Solas? You all right?  
Solas: Hmm? Of course. Do not trouble yourself, Inquisitor. I am fine.


	5. it's not what it sounds like (really)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spoilers for "Wicked Eyes, And Wicked Hearts" just basically the Orlais shit.

Lavellan: (disgusted noise) It’s so...stiff.  
Cullen: (laughs) You’ll grow into it.  
Lavellan: I don’t want to grow into it. I want to get...off!  
Cullen: Leliana will kill us, if we don’t do this.  
Lavellan: (whines)  
Cullen: I’ll help you out of it later.

What several companions _thought_ they were doing

Cassandra: Are they…? No, it can’t be. He wouldn’t. But maybe _he_ would.

Dorian: Well, well, well.  
Iron Bull: Spit it out.  
Dorian: Trouble in paradise?  
Iron Bull: (shrugs) Open relationship. And I always figured he had a thing for Cullen.  
Dorian: Seriously?  
Iron Bull: I’m a people person, remember?  
Iron Bull: ‘Sides, it’s hardly a deal breaker. You have heard of a threesome, yes?

Leliana: (giggles)  
Josephine: You seem...unusually cheerful.  
Leliana: Oh, I am. They are a good fit, are they not?  
Josephine: Who are you - you mean the Inquisitor and the Commander.  
Leliana: I wonder if the Inquisitor’s side window is still loose…  
Josephine: Leliana!  
Leliana: What? I am the _spymaster_.  
Josephine: That’s beside the point! You can’t just - you need to respect their -  
Leliana: Josie.  
Josephine: Inquisitor Lavellan is quite small...I wonder if the Commander…  
Leliana: Oh, most definitely.

What they were _actually_ doing

Lavellan: Can’t I at least wear my own boots?  
Cullen: No can do. Everything has to match.  
Lavellan: So I get to embarrass myself in this clown suit, just so the Inquisition can make a political statement - how does what I wear count as politics - to Orlais?  
Cullen: Pretty much.  
Cullen: Look at it this way. I’ll be right there with you.  
Lavellan: _You_ actually fill yours out.  
Cullen: ...what?  
Lavellan: What’s the term in those books Cassandra thinks I don't know she reads?  
Lavellan: Prince charming! You look just like a prince charming. Will you sweep me off my feet at the ball, Ser Rutherford?  
Cullen: This is the last time I ever help you figure out how to put a suit on.  
Lavellan: Well, you could help me take it _off_ …  
Cullen: …  
Cullen: All right, I walked into that one.  
Lavellan: Fabulously, I might add.


	6. growing pains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are they or aren't they? The exciting saga of Cullen/m!Lavellan continues.

Lavellan: (walks out of room into hallway)  
Cullen: Inquisitor - _Maker_.  
Lavellan: Well, I do have a high opinion of myself but really, that’s a bit much don’t you think?  
Cullen: What? Why are you - you aren’t wearing a shirt.  
Lavellan: Nope.  
Cullen: _Or pants_.  
Lavellan: Correct.  
Cullen: This is a public area!  
Lavellan: Oh. Fereldens don’t wander around naked much, then?  
Cullen: (strangled noise)  
Cullen: You told me your clan roamed the Free Marches.  
Lavellan: We do.  
Cullen: Isn’t it...cold?  
Lavellan: Well, not all the time. And besides, if you’re cold you just curl up under a blanket with your lethallin and -  
Lavellan: Why are you walking away?


	7. two dalish elves (and an antivan) walk into a bar...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, I could say I don't know how this happened, but I'd be lying. Some of the details got changed (like Varric is actually there, instead of hearing about it) but for dialogue purposes, how do you _not_ have the storyteller ask the important questions?
> 
> Would like to continue what this came from. It's a lot darker though.

Varric: Okay, now I’m a professional liar, and the truth is often stranger than fiction...but you have got to be shitting me.  
Lavellan: I’m serious.  
Varric: You met Theron Mahariel? _Daisy’s_ Mahariel? Defeater of the Archdemon, ender of the Blight, hear he looks great in leather - _that_ Mahariel?  
Lavellan: I don’t know who Daisy is but - leather? Really?  
Varric: You pick things up here and there.  
Lavellan: _Really_.  
Varric: Leliana talks in her sleep. But back to the subject at hand. You met him, the long dead Hero of Ferelden.  
Lavellan: Sure didn’t look dead to me.  
Varric: And you - what, got into a bar fight? With Theron Mahariel.  
Lavellan: Well, not with him. There were...some humans in the tavern who didn’t like elves much. He just helped.  
Varric: You’ve got to tell me that story.  
Lavellan: I just did?  
Varric: No, the fight. How Mahariel fought.  
Lavellan: Okay, so I thought _Blackwall_ was the one with the Warden crush, but…  
Varric: It’s for fiction purposes. And...a little just for me. He’s the bloody Hero, little elf.  
Lavellan: Moving on.  
Varric: Hmm? Oh, right. Then you slept with him.  
Lavellan: A lot happened from the fight to...that!  
Varric: But it happened. You fucked Theron Mahariel. While the assassin watched?  
Lavellan: Well, more like he fucked _me_ …And the other part, it’s a little complicated.  
Varric: _Really_ , now? And?  
Lavellan: If he’s in his forties, he sure doesn’t show it. Grey Warden stamina? Yeeeah.  
Cassandra: (disgusted noise) I do not need to hear this.  
Dorian: Well, I do!


	8. the wildlife (1) and propositions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Btw, this thing actually exists in the game. You never see it, but wtf Bioware?
> 
> Vaguely spoilery for "Wicked Eyes, And Wicked Hearts" but if you know there are gonna be lotsa people at the ball...well it's not much of a spoiler.

Lavellan: So there’s a giant, screeching spider lurking around Skyhold. The soldiers call it “man-eater”.  
Lavellan: I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that.  
Lavellan: You did all know that, right?  
Dorian: WHY CAN’T WE HAVE NORMAL SPIDERS!

Iron Bull: So. How are you really doing?  
Lavellan: Actually?  
Iron Bull: You know you can tell me.  
Lavellan: I’d like to find a high dragon, right about now.  
Iron Bull: ...That’s hot.  
Lavellan: You like?  
Iron Bull: I might just have to lay you out on one of those fancy tables, and have my way with you, kind of hot.  
Lavellan: Yeah?  
Iron Bull: Yeah. In front of all those people. _You_ like?  
Lavellan: Damnit Bull, quit giving me ideas.


	9. the joke is i'm not laughing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ever think of something brutal, and then wonder what the hell is wrong with you? Tadaa.
> 
> Also, never meant for Mahariel to become such a prominent part of this, but then I suppose I'm soft on that origin. The heart wants what the heart wants.

Mahariel: You know, I had a friend like you two.  
Lavellan: Oh?  
Hawke: Do tell.  
Mahariel: He was stubborn. Wanted everything his way, and usually got it, too. Thought he was really funny. Had this habit of really irritating me, and then making me forget about it. In a word? He was impossible.  
Hawke: Aww. You do love us.  
Lavellan: Wait. You said ‘had’? What happened to him?  
Mahariel: He touched a fucking mirror because he wouldn’t listen to me, mocked me about being wary of it, and then succumbed to the Blight and became a shriek. I had to kill him, months later, when he found me again and tried to kill me. He kept asking me to forgive him, not realizing I already _had_ , a long time ago.  
Hawke: …  
Lavellan: Are you…trying to tell us something?  
Mahariel: Yes. You two are gullible.  
Hawke: Grumpy has a sense of humor! A disturbing, cynical, and slightly concerning sense of humor, but a sense of humor.


	10. arishoks and elves

Iron Bull: Mahariel, I have a question.  
Mahariel: Yes?  
Iron Bull: Have you ever fucked a qunari before?  
Cassandra: …  
Varric: ...  
Lavellan: (sputtering) Why would you even -  
Mahariel: Yes.  
Cassandra: You’re joking.  
Varric: What _is_ it with elves and qunari?  
Mahariel: He was born without horns. Kind of grumpy, so you see the appeal, dwarf?  
Varric: You just get funnier and funnier elf…  
Mahariel: Kept calling me _kadan_ all the time. A few years after the Fifth Blight ended, I met him again.  
Lavellan: Where?  
Mahariel: On the battlefield. I fought against him, that time. Presumably to the death.  
Iron Bull: So, you fucked him. And then killed him. I respect that.  
Mahariel: Oh, I didn’t kill him. Fought to a draw, far as I can tell. He knocked me out, and wouldn’t tell me why he didn’t kill me. Why he hesitated. Just...that it wouldn't have been an honorable kill.  
Varric: You know, really weird shit happens to you too. Maybe it’s an elven thing.  
Iron Bull: So he’s still around? What’s his title?  
Mahariel: I hear he’s an Arishok now.  
Varric: You have _got_ to be shitting me, elf.  
Mahariel: You keep saying that and I keep still not knowing what you want me to say to it. I knew him as Sten, and now _Aneth Ara_.  
Lavellan: But that’s not even a name, it’s -  
Mahariel: It’s the name he chose, even when I explained it to him.  
Iron Bull: (growls) A _Tal-Vashoth_ became Arishok?  
Mahariel: He follows the Qun, if that’s what you mean. Very, well, religiously.  
Iron Bull: So why the name?  
Mahariel: (shrugs) I never said I _understood_ him. He asked me to give him it.  
Mahariel: Much like ‘Iron Bull,’ or am I mistaken?  
Iron Bull: You’re sharp, elf. Give you that. Respect that, too.


	11. rogues and grappling hooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is something that actually happened to me in game. Today. I found it personally hilarious, but Lavellan was most displeased.

Iron Bull: Boss. You _shot_ me. With a grappling hook!  
Lavellan: I apologize. Would it help if you got to shoot me in return?  
Iron Bull: I don’t want to shoot you. Besides, it _does_ make a pretty great scar.  
Varric: That...doesn’t really explain why you shot him. In the shoulder?  
Solas: Our qunari companion does tend to tower over most opponents.  
Lavellan: It’s Varric’s fault.  
Varric: _My_ fault?  
Lavellan: Hawke is a rogue, isn’t she?  
Varric: Well, I prefer charmingly mischievous, but -  
Lavellan: She’s human.  
Varric: Yes?  
Lavellan: Did you fling her into trees too?  
Varric: Okay, now you’ve lost me.  
Lavellan: The last battle. You exploded an arrow, directly under my feet.  
Varric: If I had, you wouldn’t be standing there. Confusing me.  
Lavellan: I was some feet in the air at the time.  
Varric: Chuckles?  
Solas: I believe the particular maneuver to which the Inquisitor refers is known as the leaping shot.  
Varric: (rolls eyes) I’m aware.  
Lavellan: So you’re also aware you can greatly increase the propulsion factor with enough energy?  
Varric: Theoretically…  
Lavellan: Exploding. Arrow.  
Solas: That explains where you disappeared to.  
Lavellan: I could have died!  
Solas: Congratulations dwarf, you almost single-handedly destroyed the Inquisition before it even truly began.


	12. the wildlife (2) - bear country edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the Hinterlands today, Solas thought the mages and templars chose a poor place to "settle their differences". We defeated two pairs of two bears. In a row. Almost died. Then Solas goes "this is a good place to camp". Where would you prefer we settle _our_ differences, Solas?

Lavellan: So, who was it that said the mages and templars made bad life choices?  
Solas: I believe I meant choice of battlefield.  
Iron Bull: Location, location, location.  
Lavellan: Excuse me?  
Iron Bull: I agree. The Hinterlands, it’s too...hilly. Great place for being ambushed.  
Lavellan: That’s not the point.  
Solas: Then you do have a point...somewhere, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: (mockingly) Do you have a point, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: So what do you call ‘let’s camp in bear country!’ then?  
Solas: Communing with nature.  
Lavellan: Oh, you’re hilarious.  
Solas: I believe so, yes.


	13. escalation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one will be _fun_ to write.

Krem: What Bull likes. In bed. Don’t you, uh, know that already?  
Lavellan: (sullenly) I know what he’s told me. But it’s all focused on what he’s doing to _me_.  
Krem: …  
Lavellan: Spit it out.  
Krem: There is one thing. It’s not particularly out there, just. You know he holds back with you, right?  
Krem: Not that way, and you know it. Bull just needs a partner who’s more durable than you or I.  
Lavellan: You?  
Krem: (punches his shoulder) It’s Bull. You’ve seen him. You’ve _had_ him.  
Krem: So he wouldn’t have to worry about hurting them so much. The worrying. It’s a thing with him.  
Lavellan: I’ve noticed.  
Lavellan: Hmm…  
Krem: (groans) What?  
Lavellan: Krem. How would you like to seduce Bull with me?  
Krem: …  
Krem: Well _shit_ , this escalated quickly.  
Lavellan: Is that a yes?  
Krem: It’s an “I need to see this unfold in person” so, yes.


	14. they're alive!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grey Warden armors are sweet though.

Lavellan: This armor.  
Blackwall: It bears the inscription of the Grey Wardens. In death, sacrifice…  
Lavellan: Mmm. I got that. But that makes three Grey Warden armors.  
Solas: Are you going somewhere with this line of questioning, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: So why is it the only one I can wear is the _death_ one?  
Lavellan: It’s like someone is trying to tell me something.  
Varric: What, like we’re in someone’s made up version of reality and there’s a master puppeteer controlling everything we do? You’re paranoid, little elf.  
Varric: (muttering) Besides, it’d be a pretty messed up made up version of reality.  
Solas: Normally I would argue the point, but I find myself having to agree with the dwarf.  
Blackwall: If it makes you feel any better, Hawke and Mahariel are rogues too. It’s also the only armor they’d wear.  
Solas: Perhaps they’re all doomed to die in service to their countrymen?  
Lavellan: Well, thank you for making this even _more_ depressing.


	15. the wildlife (3-5)

Lavellan: Fucking blood lotus. Why am I doing this?  
Lavellan: Do I not lead the Inquisition? Do I not have plenty of soldiers who would jump at the chance to pick  
fucking blood lotus in the bloody Mire for the forsaken Herald of Andraste?  
Varric: Now, now, little elf. What did the blood lotus ever do to you?  
Lavellan: _Why am I doing this?_

Lavellan: (sing song) It’s off to the Hinterlands we go. Till time and weather rots our bones.  
Sera: Eww. Stop that.  
Lavellan: What?  
Sera: It’s bloody creepy, innit? That song?  
Lavellan: Shall I have the bard sing it for you every morning?

Iron Bull: So we’re out here. Getting wet. For?  
Lavellan: Vivenne wants a snowy wyvern heart. What Vivenne wants, Vivenne gets.  
Iron Bull: (pause) A sound strategy.  
Lavellan: I thought so. Besides, I saw a dragon around here the last time I was here.  
Iron Bull: Tell me we get to kill it, boss. _Tell me_.  
Lavellan: We get to kill it.  
Iron Bull: Ah, you’re the best, boss!  
Lavellan: (laughing) Okay, okay, put me down now.

Lavellan: Dragon’s dead. Killed a bunch of floppy...grey things.  
Lavellan: Scoured the marsh for herbs.  
Lavellan: ...Twice.  
Lavellan: So...  
Lavellan: WHERE IS THIS WYVERN?


	16. bull riding and body worship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eve before the eve of good Jesus' birthday and look what I am writing.
> 
> The second one will be continued ;D

Varric: So, I gotta ask. You and Bull.  
Lavellan: I’m not going to like where this is going, am I.  
Dorian: Probably not.  
Varric: I just don’t get how...all that...would fit in...there.  
Cassandra: (sputtering) Are you seriously asking -  
Varric: How he rides the Bull? Yes.  
Dorian: (laughs)  
Lavellan: Well, we take it slow but...not as carefully as you’d think.  
Cassandra: (disgusted noise)

Cassandra disapproves - 10000

 

Cole: He looks to you and sees. The scars, your strength. Comforting. You push him down. Hold him, surrounded in your arms. Like Skyhold is there, yet you are the fortress.  
Lavellan: (clears throat)  
Cole: On the tip of his tongue. He can’t get the words out. Words aren’t enough. Needs to show. Behind locked doors, in the dark. His hands on your chest. _Finally_ , breathed but inside. With you dips his head, mouth, to the scar you both know all too well…  
Lavellan: Maker’s _balls_ , Cole. Enough.  
Iron Bull: Actually…

**Optional Companion Dialogue**

Lavellan: (to Solas) Kill me. Right now. I want to die.  
Solas: (sweetly) Would you prefer to be tied down first?

Cassandra: It is not something to be ashamed of, Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: ...Wait, what?  
Cassandra: Your preference for big, strong men with scars who can fling you around a room.  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: You’ve developed a sense of humor. That’s great.


	17. my mount is my baby and court decisions (1)

Lavellan: (cooing) Who’s a good _da’len_?  
Solas: (amused) Did you really name it that?  
Lavellan: He’s small, as far as dracolisks go.  
Blackwall: Maker, are you talking to that _thing_ like a person?  
Iron Bull: Baby dragon.  
Lavellan: Dracolisk.  
Iron Bull: Yeah, I’m gonna go with baby dragon. We _kill_ dragons, boss. Especially the babies.  
Lavellan: Come near _da’len_ and I’ll have Dorian set you on fire.

Lavellan: A goat? _Goats_? Ugrh. Check the goats for injuries, then...I don’t know, release them into the woods.  
Josephine: Yes, Herald.  
Lavellan: As for you lot, Tevinter, I think. As much arms as you can carry. Maybe some nice, shiny red bows, for effect? Complements of the Herald. With love, hugs and kisses.  
Josephine: A most diplomatic signature, Herald.  
Lavellan: Yes. I thought ‘fuck you and the horse you rode in on’ was a bit harsh.


	18. how to fell a giant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I know you can "ask" Iron Bull about marriage if you're in a relationship with him, but really? The smart Inquisitor wouldn't ask in the bedroom.
> 
> Obviously they'd ask while fighting a fire breathing High Dragon. True facts.

Lavellan: So, Bull.  
Iron Bull: Yes, boss?  
Lavellan: Marriage. Thoughts?  
Dorian: We’re doing this _now_? Dragon! High. Dragon.  
Dorian: You need a dragon trying to fry you alive to get Bull to talk to you? About a wedding?  
Lavellan: I want a straight answer.  
Iron Bull: I, ah - look... _kadan_. I like you. Okay, more than like you. But - how did this even -  
Dorian: _Dodge the giant plume of fire!_  
Lavellan: Summer, or winter, you think?  
Iron Bull: Wha -  
Dorian: Oh, look. He’s speechless. Now, someone! Help Dorian!  
Lavellan: I figured summer, since you said it’s usually too hot for qunari to bother with shirts.  
Dorian: Dorian, on fire. Screaming!  
Lavellan: (sigh) Solas, put him out, please.  
Iron Bull: Well, yeah, but -  
Lavellan: It’s important to plan ahead. Josie and Blackwall don’t want to get married publicly because of station but - Bull?  
Solas: I think you killed him, Inquisitor. Quite impressively, with just words.  
Dorian: Oh, no. Don’t worry about me. I’m just...slowly fading away. Painfully.


	19. justice (in six parts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This didn't come out the way I wanted it, but have some cats. And oblivious Iron Bull.
> 
> Also, hey I finally got around to uploading all of my photos off my iPod, so here's the lovely (infamous) [Elijah Lavellan](http://nikolagriffin.tumblr.com/post/106187959751/hmm-okay-replaying-da-i-and-basically-just-redid) in person :D

Lavellan: Well, this is unexpected.  
Hawke: Hmm? Oh, he was just leaving. Thank you.  
Mahariel: (nods, and leaves)  
Lavellan: Thank you?  
Hawke: Yes?  
Lavellan: That was nearly a civil conversation.  
Hawke: (laughs) Well, we can’t have that, can we?  
Lavellan: So, why was he up here anyway? The stables are almost in the complete opposite direction.  
Hawke: I asked him for a favor. Well, a mutual favor, I guess. For the both of us. And a friend.  
Lavellan: Is there a problem?  
Hawke: With this favor? For you and the Inquisition? You won’t be connected. For me and Mahariel? Headaches. Lots of headaches. You like cats?  
Lavellan: I...guess?  
Hawke: Great!

Blackwall: Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: Yes, Blackwall?  
Lavellan: Why do you have hair all over you?  
Blackwall: Cat hair. There are cats. Sleeping in everything.  
Lavellan: I’m not sure how to respond to that.  
Blackwall: Talk to Mahariel. They seem to like him. Or Hawke, I guess. It is her mabari sleeping upstairs in the stables.  
Lavellan: With Mahariel? And the cats?  
Blackwall: (shrugs) I’m going to go find...something very sticky. And hope I can stop sneezing soon.

Lavellan: So. Blackwall says there are cats.  
Mahariel: There are indeed. Would you like a specific cat?  
Lavellan: What?  
Mahariel: The one in the corner. The black one with the yellow eyes. He suits you.  
Lavellan: Are you giving me a cat?  
Mahariel: Potentially. Aren’t you cold at night? Cats are nice.  
Lavellan: Well…  
Mahariel: Perfect. Would you mind also taking the orange and white striped one to Hawke?

Lavellan: Are _you_ going to tell me what’s up with all the cats?  
Hawke: They needed homes. You have a home. Full of many people. Who also have homes.  
Lavellan: So...are you running a shelter out of Skyhold?  
Hawke: Maker, no. I can hardly work _this_ closely with Mahariel.  
Lavellan: So you two are in this together.  
Hawke: I told you we were. This is called the "headache" stage.  
Lavellan: Stage of what?  
Hawke: Headaches. The cats will be gone within a few weeks. They’ve all but a few settled in quite nicely with their new owners.

Iron Bull: I’m not sure I understand, boss.  
Lavellan: There were cats all around Skyhold, Didn’t you notice?  
Iron Bull: I don’t keep tabs on the local feline population. Should I?  
Lavellan: And now they’re gone. Or most of them. Hawke and Mahariel were involved, though.  
Iron Bull: With...cats.  
Lavellan: Together.  
Iron Bull: (pauses) Are they trying to weaponize them?  
Lavellan: Maybe! I don’t know. That’s why I want you to find out.  
Iron Bull: But Leliana is the spymaster at Skyhold.  
Lavellan: And she and Mahariel are quite close. Do you want to come between that?  
Iron Bull: Point taken.

Iron Bull: Report ‘catapult,’ as requested.  
Lavellan: Catapult?  
Lavellan: ...This is all about cats.  
Iron Bull: Exactly. Cat-apult. It was Krem’s idea.  
Lavellan: Puns. (shakes head) They all came from...Vigil’s Keep?  
Iron Bull: Yes.  
Lavellan: That’s -  
Iron Bull: Mahariel’s fortress? Guarded by the Silver Order? Guys nearly shot us full of arrows going near the place.  
Lavellan: They fired on you?  
Iron Bull: Well...it was at night. There should be some concern when a big, dragon horned shadow starts bearing down on you.  
Lavellan: You went yourself?  
Iron Bull: You asked me personally. I aim to please.  
Lavellan: (sighs) You could aim to do a lot more _pleasing_ in other areas…  
Iron Bull: You want me to storm the Keep? Risky. Likely to piss Mahariel off. And he has...friends. Scarier friends than we do.  
Lavellan: Not really what I meant. So, let me get this straight. Hawke and Mahariel fenced a bunch of cats from Vigil’s Keep to Skyhold, under the utmost secrecy. Then gave - or forced - most of them on people around here. Because...why?  
Iron Bull: Fuck if I know. They missed a great opportunity, though. Think about it, an army of bees _and_ cats!  
Lavellan: You’ve been talking to Sera again, haven’t you? We agreed that was a bad idea, remember?  
Iron Bull: I talk to a lot of people. People. Person. Anyway, you should probably take a look at this too.  
Lavellan: What is it?  
Iron Bull: Don’t know, nicked it off Hawke. Seems like she, Mahariel, and some Grey Warden called Nathaniel saved the cats for justice.  
Lavellan: Justice.  
Iron Bull: Yeah, think it’s a code. Or, and more likely, they’re just fucking with you, boss.  
Lavellan: Why do you say that?  
Iron Bull: Seems like Hawke’s style. Mahariel...I don’t know. Could be bored.  
Lavellan: This ‘Nathaniel’ brought all those cats here?  
Iron Bull: (shrugs)  
Lavellan: Urgh. At this rate, I’m ready for my own “headache stage”. Fine. It’s done, and my allies are unsurprisingly stranger than ever. Case closed.  
Lavellan: Now, about that pleasing...


	20. well, we found solas...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the end of the game, Iron Bull and Lavellan indulge in something new during sex...with unexpected Solas results.
> 
> I'm not even sorry. 
> 
> MAJOR spoilers for Solas and the glowy hand thing.

Lavellan: Are you - Are you bloody serious? I just had to - what, say your damn name and...Fen _fucking_ Harel -  
Cullen: Isn’t that -  
Solas: The Dread Wolf? Yes. Now be a good former knight-commander and go to sleep.  
Iron Bull: That was pretty badass. Creepy. But _badass_.  
Solas: (irritably) Yes, well, I am not exactly clear on how _my name_ comes up during - what are you doing?  
Lavellan: Nothing you want to be a part of. Go away.  
Iron Bull: Ah, did I miss something here? I thought your name was Solas?  
Solas: I. Cannot. You invoked me and - is he _licking_ your hand?  
Iron Bull: (pauses) You two seemed like you’d be a while. I got bored.  
Lavellan: It’s. It’s the mark. It just makes this hand...very sensitive, okay?  
Solas: Not if the Iron Bull licking the edges of it drags me through the Fade...do you plan on doing this _often_?  
Lavellan: (muttered under his breath) Not anymore.  
Lavellan: Hey, Cullen’s all right, isn’t he? He just heard you, dropping in from the _ceiling_ , and came to investigate.  
Iron Bull: You’d think he’d have learned. From last time.  
Lavellan: Maybe he’s more interested than he pretends to be?  
Iron Bull: I like the way this conversation is going.  
Solas: …  
Lavellan: Well?  
Solas: I just put him to sleep. He will wake up and this will be nothing more to him than a horrible nightmare. I wish I could do the same.  
Lavellan: Door’s right over there.  
Iron Bull: Yeah...no offense, but we’re sort of busy…  
Solas: (muttering) I will show you busy.  
Lavellan: (yelps) You _ass_. Some things aren’t meant to be frozen!


	21. duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sten's gonna be designated as Arishok Sten, because it's the easiest thing to identify him by, kk?

Lavellan: When we meet this “Nightmare” again, because _of course_ we will, what are you going to do?  
Mahariel: I am going to kill it. Obviously.  
Hawke: Ha. We met that thing in person and it was…there is no word for it.  
Lavellan: Alone? You’re going to kill it alone?  
Mahariel: _Try_ , if alone. Satisfied?  
Arishok Sten: You are never alone, _kadan_. I would be honored to die by your side.  
Mahariel: Well, there you go. So I’m going to kill it.  
Iron Bull: I –  
Lavellan: Bull?  
Iron Bull: I feel the same, _kadan_. Uh. Well, mine. Though I suppose both. Maybe.  
Lavellan: We’re going to kill it.  
Mahariel: This is what I’ve been saying. Come now, people to kill waiting, as the saying goes.  
Hawke: I see what they say about the Hero of Ferelden being frightening, sometimes. Like right now, for example.

Arishok Sten approves +20


	22. aiming issues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I regret giving Bull the "Charging Bull" skill...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know what happens when you spill Mt. Dew all over your laptop? _BAD THINGS HAPPEN_.
> 
> Bad things have since been rectified.

Lavellan: So, Bull. You have aiming issues.  
Iron Bull: You want to talk about this now?  
Lavellan: Why wouldn’t I?

**Optional Companion Dialogue**

Cassandra: I understand that you two are...involved.  
Lavellan: Okay?  
Cassandra: But still, have some decorum. 

Cole: I do not understand.  
Lavellan: You don’t understand what?  
Cole: What Sera means by premature ejacu-  
Lavellan: _Cole_.  
Cole: This is one of her “jokes”.  
Lavellan: Yes. Hilarious, Sera.  
Sera: (snickering) 

Dorian: I do not want to know.  
Dorian: Wait!  
Dorian: ….No, no, still no.  
Lavellan: ... 

Varric: This type of conversation is best had over drinks. ... Like twenty of them.  
Solas: Or not had at all.  
Varric: Why don't Chuckles and I go stand...somewhere else -  
Solas: Anywhere else.  
Varric: - and you two can hash out all the "aiming issues" you need to?  
\- 

Lavellan: That thing you do. Where you charge at the enemy? And miss? 75% of the time?  
Lavellan: What did you all think I meant?  
Iron Bull: Wait. You _weren't_ talking about sex?  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: You all need Andraste. 


	23. as according to lavellan (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The short of it: well, _shit_.

**About people, in general** :

It's like you all conveniently forget I'm Dalish, right up until something goes to shit. _Then_ , oh then you remember. Me? Yeah. Your Herald. Also one of those "savages". Yeah, _definitely_ your bad.

__Oh no, no trouble! We'll clean your mess right up. That you made. Yourself._ _

__That's right! Inquisition "fixing the world's problems, one blighted nug shit eater at a time" at your service. Hmm. Too harsh?_ _

Now you're just fucking up on _purpose_. 

Why must it always be about elves? Well, now it's because I hate you.

__**About the Maker** :_ _

__(mocking) You don't believe in the Maker? Well, no. See, I'm an elf. A Dalish elf. Hasn't mixed well in the past, really._ _

__**About Orlesians** :_ _

__No matter how many times you kill them, they just keep coming back._ _

Evidence Orlesians have no sense: Remember that time they decided to have a civil war on an ancient battleground with demons merrily popping out of the _ground_? No rift required. Just...like fucking embrium, okay. 

__(random guy collapses on the street) Is he dead? ... No one's even paying attention. Why does this shit always happen to me? Hello, totally not the Inquisition's boss, totally not stepping over a possible corpse here. Nothing to see, move on._ _

__**Thedas, according to Elijah Lavellan** : _ _

The Hinterlands: 1. An elfroot for you! An elfroot for EVERYBODY! 2. Fucking hills. 3. Fucking mages. 4. And templars.  
The Hissing Wastes: 1. Endless fucking nothingness.  
The Western Approach: 1. Sand. 2. Venatori. 3. Sand. 4. I have sand. In my boots. It's very uncomfortable.  
Crestwood: 1. Rain rain RAIn raiN. 2. Attention, all who have the Blight: _abort abort do not come here_. 3. ...Too soon?  
Exalted Plains: 1. Where are all these fucking undead coming from?  
Emerald Graves: 1. Trees for all the _dead elves_ , that’s great. Why did you take me here.  
Emprise Du Lion: 1. Abominations. 2. Red lyrium. 3. DRAgons. _Multiple_. 4. What sort of fuckery is this?  
The Fade: 1. Sorry to interrupt your nerd boner over there Solas, but. Giant. Fear. Demon. 2. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA no. 

__**Things Learned** _ _

__Lessons learned from the Exalted Plains - burn your own damn dead._ _

__Never take Solas and Vivenne together, anywhere. If must, also bring templar. Especially Cassandra. Her disgusted noises are just so...delightful. You can absolutely tell her I said that. With a wink. And a little smiley face. Just like that, yes._ _

__Anything Cole says: just go with it._ _

Gibbling terror. Adorable tiny, little lizard. Will absolutely bite your fingers off. Then eat your face.

__What Lady Vivenne wants, Lady Vivenne gets._ _

__When the Iron Bull says he's going to do something, believe him. Especially when he explains it...explicitly...particularly while he...has you up against a wall. Hmm. Ahem. Moving on._ _

__Also, Bull is always honest. This is not, however, always a good thing._ _

__**To-Do List** _ _

The Iron Bull: On the balcony. All the balconies. On the roof. In the garden. On the throne. At the ball. On a table. Wait...no, already did that. Well, not _every_ table... 

_Krem_. 

__Feel guilty about taking Cole into the Fade. Duration: forever._ _

__To tease Cullen until he turns into a stammering, blushing mess, or not to tease Cullen until he turns into a stammering, blushing mess? That is...never even in question. The answer is always. Always._ _

__Dance with Scout Harding._ _

__Argue with Sera about elves. For the billionth gazillionth time. Then bake cookies. Mix in raisins when Sera isn't looking. Laugh pettily when she bites into one. Run._ _

__Get banned from archery contest. Commiserate with Varric and Bianca._ _

__Collect. Every. Fucking. Thing._ _


	24. halla, halla, halla

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't resist.

Lavellan: So, we’re doing a new thing. Code names.  
Lavellan: I’ll be “halla one”.  
Lavellan: Solas is “been there, done that”.  
Dorian: What? Really?  
Solas: (grumpy) Under the stars. We were both cold. For the warmth.  
Varric: (pauses) Really not helping your case, Chuckles.  
Lavellan: Iron Bull is “currently doing that”.  
Solas: (highly annoyed) As you both ever so frequently remind everyone…  
Dorian: You two are a mite bit loud. And what’s this I hear about…rope? Do tell.  
Lavellan: My lips are sealed.  
Iron Bull: (chuckles) Right now they are. Don’t know about later.  
Lavellan: Varric is “it happened once in a dream”.  
Varric: (chuckles) It’s the chest hair isn’t it?  
Lavellan: It should come with a hazard warning.  
Varric: You say the sweetest things, Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: Krem is “if I had to pick a Tevinter”.  
Dorian: Hey!  
Lavellan: Krem’s voice is absolutely orgasmic.  
Varric: Can’t argue that, Sparkler.  
Iron Bull: True enough.  
Solas: I would not phrase it quite so crassly, but…  
Dorian: (sighs)  
Lavellan: And Cassandra is…  
Cassandra: (disgusted noise)  
Lavellan: …”halla two”.  
Cassandra: Thank the Maker.


	25. dorian says, vivienne (reluctantly) agrees, and blackwall narrates tone like an elcor

Dorian: Careful, says Dorian!  
Lavellan: …  
Dorian: Who knows what you might summon, says Dorian!  
Lavellan: …  
Dorian: Reassembling a centuries dead elven high priest _disassembled_ by his own people is a spectacular idea…  
Blackwall: ...Dorian did not say, sarcastically.  
Dorian: ‘Aay!  
Vivienne: It vexes me to agree with the Tevinter, but you must admit dear, picking up dessicated organs like they were morbid puzzle pieces…  
Blackwall: ...is not normal, implies Madame de Fer. Disapprovingly, yet with a certain exasperated fondness.  
Vivienne: Precisely.  
Dorian: Do not step into the suspicious green lights glowing like tiny Fade rifts, says Dorian!  
Dorian: (imitating Lavellan, poorly) My dearest bestie warned me this was a horrible, no good idea sure to end in death and tears, in that order, and I said…  
Dorian: (normal voice) What _did_ you say, my delightful, but unfortunately suffers from ‘I am a rogue and I must steal ALL the things’ complex, dear, dear Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: (defeated) Let’s do it anyway.  
Blackwall: Is anyone surprised red templars followed us into the temple?  
Vivienne: Not at all, dear. I must express a small amount of disbelief they caught up with us before we were safely back ensconced in the halls of Skyhold, however.  
Dorian: Scoffing at thinly veiled, scathing remarks about Tevinter cuisine in books clearly penned by lowborn, dog loving Fereldens?  
Blackwall: But of course.  
Dorian: Yes, and savoring that delightful brandy…  
Vivienne: That no one knows you hide in the bookcase, third from the entrance, behind such ribald tales as “Hard in Hightown: Siege Harder” written by our very own... _illustrious_ Varric Tehras, my dear?  
Blackwall: Varric would take that as a compliment, madame.  
Dorian: I do not know what you are talking -  
Blackwall: Water.  
Dorian: But -  
Blackwall: (narrows eyes) Do I need to sit on you again? In full armor?  
Lavellan: How is this my life?  
Lavellan: Surely Keeper Deshanna would forgive me for abandoning my duties in light of this -  
Vivienne: I am sure Cremisius Aclassi would be utterly _delighted_ to perform the same service for you, Inquisitor. He is quite a fine young man, for a Tevinter.  
Blackwall: And a mercenary.  
Vivienne: Do send him my regards, Inquisitor. And you must be sure to ask him which he would suggest for my newest project - King’s Willow Weave, or Royale Sea Silk? I am most desperate for the opinion of someone with a sense of fashion around Skyhold, you know.  
Dorian: (grumpily) Give it up Lavellan. Stop by the library later and we’ll commiserate over our shared misfortunate dilemma of such being our, I detest to admit such a thing, but our friends.  
Blackwall: Ahem.  
Dorian: With _water_ , of course. Fine, distilled spring water that does not smell like it came from that atrocious swamp you made me wade through last week, Inquisitor. Are you pleased, Ser Blackwall?  
Blackwall: (amused) Quite.  
Dorian: (sighs)


	26. josie's days of headaches: edification (1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Josephine, as much as she manages to be civil at all times, experiences her moments of frustration and exasperation. Imagine what goes on inside her office that does not make it into the "official" reports...

Josephine: (sighs heavily) Has Mahariel unintentionally frightened the children with tales of the Fifth Blight? _Again_?  
Runner: It appears so, Ambassador.  
Josephine: I swear, the man is a dear but he has no filter.  
Runner: ...And Ser Blackwall.  
Josephine: Ser Blackwall has frightened the children as well? That does not sound like him. Surely you are mistaken?  
Runner: Ser Blackwall, er, is among those frightened, Ambassador.  
Josephine: Oh. (giggles) Ahem. Strike that from your official report.  
Runner: Of course, Ambassador.  
Josephine: Please inform Mahariel...remind the Commander of the Grey there are such things as editing. And tact.  
Runner: Are you...sure? Ambassador?  
Josephine: (sighs) So many of you are afraid of Theron Mahariel. I do not understand it. Our own Inquisitor is also a Dalish elf. Must you continue to listen to fear mongering propaganda and -  
Runner: I apologize, Ambassador, but I am not _afraid_ of Commander Mahariel. It is more…  
Josephine: Hero worship?  
Runner: ...I wouldn’t put it quite that way, myself, but yes. The ranks greatly respect and admire the Commander. It is...difficult to speak with him, personally, because of it. No fear or dislike intended, Lady Ambassador.  
Josephine: The soldiers’ wide eyes, _still_ , every time he walks into a room are most...adorable, but…  
Runner: Strike that from the report?  
Josephine: (sighs) I wish Mahariel were not so modest. Yes, please remove my...extraneous commentary from your official report. Have Varric report to my office, if you will. I am sure he would be more than willing to discuss the finer points of literary editing for appropriate audiences with Commander Mahariel.  
Runner: At once.  
Josephine: Heart heart eyes, as Mahariel says a certain Crow is fond of saying.  
Josephine: (giggles)  
Runner: Ambassador?  
Josephine: (clears throat) Strike all extraneous commentary but the last, please. Varric deserves it for informing the Inquisitor of my favorite brand of chocolates.  
Josephine: (mutters) I know it was him. It was a closely guarded secret! Leliana hasn’t stopped giggling over my reaction for the past _week_.


	27. josie's days of headaches: of griffons and wolves (2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So if Solas and (my) Warden Mahariel were to meet...ahahaha.
> 
> I think Mahariel would be more pissed about the Grey Warden thing than the Dalish, with Solas tbth. He's well used to the latter, but especially, probably, his "pick it up as you go" introduction into the wardens left him with a lot of respect for the difficult life the rank and file lead. He doesn't take well to people insulting their sacrifices.

Runner: ...there are rumors the wrath of Messre Solas and Commander Mahariel combined creates a force potent enough to implode Skyhold. (pauses) I know what this question will sound like, but consider who we work with. Can they?  
Josephine: (sighs) Please remind Messre Solas that the Commander no longer sleeps. At all. Unless put under by magical assistance. He should also be forgiven for his...vitriolic defense of the Grey Wardens, being who he is. Solas _knows_ just how to force a negative reaction from him any time they speak on the subject. Possibly speak at all. And takes great pleasure in doing so. Repeatedly. He takes his life into his own hands and, quite frankly, I’m impressed at Mahariel’s restraint in not shooting Solas in the knee again as of late. Especially after their last encounter...  
Leliana: The Inquisitor informs me that precisely what Solas called Mahariel then is not to be repeated ever again.  
Josephine: (long sigh) It did have something to do with the Dalish word “ _da’len_ ” and the “arcane” and “barbarous” practice of “playing with sticks, and some string,” yes?  
Leliana: (trying not to laugh) You only forget the slight against Mahariel’s accuracy at aiming, and the entirely tactful, yet delighted suggestion the “most illustrious Commander of the Grey” must be compensating for something. Josie.  
Josephine: (giggles) Messere Solas does have a biting wit, I must admit. Though I would prefer he save it for the enemies of the Inquisition. And not his own allies.  
Josephine: Also, carefully drop the hint, where Mahariel will hear it, that Ser Blackwall is not the only resident of Skyhold known with a hand for woodcraft. Though he seems to stick to griffons, and not wolves. And that the tea that makes swallowing pure magic less destructive on the body in the succeeding days is detested by Messere Solas, yet he continues to personally gather, procure, and brew a batch. Every week. Like clockwork.  
Leliana: (casually) Does Clan Lavellan not have stories of Fen’Harel, as much as I gather he is feared and detested by the Dalish at large, watching over those who sacrifice much for the greater good?  
Josephine: Do you have all that?  
Runner: (pauses) I believe I can improvise, but. Mostly.  
(Runner leaves)  
Josephine: A fine touch, Leliana.  
Leliana: (laughs) I know how to handle Mahariel when he’s grumpy. And sleep deprived.  
Josephine: (softly) I know you worry for him. Shall I send word to the crown it would most benefit King Alistair to visit with the Inquisitor at Skyhold for a few weeks? Surely Queen Anora can manage official business while he is gone. And while she is not, at all as I understand it, fond of Mahariel due to his hand in her father’s death, she has become quite fond of Alistair. Has she not?  
Leliana: Shhh, Josie. It is a closely guarded national secret!  
Leliana: (softly) Thank you, Josie.  
Josephine: It is what I am here for.


	28. use the front door!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did this, and felt really silly about it for a while.

Iron Bull: Boss.  
Lavellan: Hmm?  
Iron Bull: Back there. The house...or, former house, that was on fire.  
Lavellan: Yes?  
Iron Bull: You used the door.  
Lavellan: That I did.  
Sera: A blast the size of Bull, probably, took out the door’s wall. Cannon _bull_. Get it? Like cannon _ball_ but...oh forget it.  
Lavellan: And?  
Cole: I am also...confused. Would it not have been easier to simply walk through the large hole in the wall?  
Lavellan: So I used the door instead, same difference.  
Iron Bull: Boss. You even knocked first.  
Lavellan: Excuse me for attempting to set a polite, positive image of the Inquisition forth on the world!  
Cole: But we bash in keep doors for -  
Sera: (snickers) The fun of it.  
Iron Bull: Tactical advantage...also, it’s pretty fun.  
Lavellan: That’s different! Those are _bad_ guys!


	29. well, this is awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought, it's that _Cole_ is the one saying this that makes Inqusi want to hide in a hole.
> 
> Also, Solas is there! Because, _of course_ he is.

Lavellan: It’s not that.  
Iron Bull: Okay. ...Got to say, not following then.  
Lavellan: (sigh) I’m completely comfortable with everything we do.  
Iron Bull: Right.  
Lavellan: And, although it’s not my first preference, if you want me to shout it at the top of my lungs in the Chantry, even, okay.  
Iron Bull: Hmmm, could get messy.  
Lavellan: (pause) How could it -  
Iron Bull: Mother Giselle hates Dorian. She’d _really_ hate me “tainting” the precious Herald. Though mostly she is a very kind woman.  
Lavellan: (pause)  
Lavellan: I get it.  
Lavellan: But anyway, it’s not us. It’s _Cole_.  
Cole: Yes?  
Lavellan: Yes, you. All you. I do not enjoy hearing intimate details about my private life imparted to the world in a breathy voice while a spirit-human...Cole imitates us both. Poorly.  
Solas: (snorts)  
Lavellan: And in front of Solas.  
Iron Bull: You mean the rest of our friends?  
Lavellan: Well, sure, but also, no. Solas specifically.  
Solas: I am touched, Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: Don’t get used to it.  
Solas: I would need to be, what was it? Tied down? First? Or do you prefer a more unconventional approach, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: Yeah, you see? That.


	30. i'll make a warden...out of yoooooou

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This was never meant to be this depressing, surely. But...
> 
> Well, anyway, I should work out a timeline sometime, provided shit doesn't conflict each other 'cause I'm like "that sounds great, let's do that" with only vague understandings about would this feasibly happen in game at said place at said time? I don't like fucking with canon events like _too_ much. S'weird.
> 
> Anyway, Mahariel would have gone after Abyss, for obvious reasons. Also a bit pissed off at Wardens in general. He is, I mean. You leave them alone for _one_ second and BLOOD MAGIC...

Hawke: I’m pretty sure the Wardens know they’ve fucked up.  
Lavellan: Seriously? Weren’t you complaining about them getting off light the last minute -  
Hawke: When Mahariel is angry with you, you. Pay. Attention.  
Lavellan: (pauses)  
Lavellan: I thought he was already angry, all the time?  
Hawke: Oh.  
Lavellan: That’s a rather bracing thought.  
Hawke: You and me both, kid. And I’ve seen it in person.  
Lavellan: I guess his next destination is Weisshaupt then?  
Hawke: He told you?  
Lavellan: You just did, actually.  
Hawke: Sharper than they give you credit for.  
Hawke: But yes. Something is...wrong, here. Well, more than usual with the Wardens excluding current circumstances, as I hear it.  
Hawke: (pause) I’m going with him.  
Lavellan: Okay. Hold on. Has Corypheus actually destroyed Thedas, already? You are...you know this will not end well. Please tell me you know this will not end well.  
Hawke: (laughs)  
Lavellan: Yeah, that’s exactly the sort of reaction that will have Varric tearing his hair out for _months_.  
Hawke: (sober) I’m aware. I’ll...speak to him, before we go.  
Hawke: But you are aware, the only reason I agreed to accompany Mahariel, was to kill him if Corypheus succeeds in turning him?  
Lavellan: _What_.  
Hawke: He said, and I quote: There are two people in this world, who probably have the stone to kill me. For an elf, he’s very fond of dwarven turns of phrases.  
Lavellan: So who’s the other? Hawke, you can’t possibly -  
Hawke: You think I _want_ to? Mahariel and I have our differences, and we will never likely be that close of friends but I…To answer your question, the other person. Is you.  
Lavellan: ...Why would he even think that?  
Hawke: Something Cole told him? Wasn’t clear?  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: (sighs) Cole asked me if I would kill him if he ever started hurting innocent people. I...he looked so distressed at the thought I said yes. I lied to him, to his face. But after? It became...not so much a lie. I don’t want this.  
Hawke: (sighs, rubs face with hands) When my mother, sister, and I left for Kirkwall, we thought we’d have a new life. Maybe go home after the Blight, but. Maybe just stay. It seems a child’s fairy tale now, only we’re in a nightmare instead.  
Lavellan: Okay. I’m getting really tired of this save the world bullshit. We all just get _screwed_ , in the end.  
Hawke: (laughs, bitter) Varric never told you? Stories of heroes are only great for those who hear them, safe in their own isolated little worlds far from our horrors. Where they can judge everything we do with impunity because they’re not the one’s who've had to live it.  
Lavellan: So make it so it doesn’t have to come to that. To end in Mahariel’s death. It’s...sort of the least we owe him.  
Hawke: (surprised laugh) You mean, we’re both only alive because he was too stubborn an arse to die before stabbing the Archdemon, the fifth sorry, in the heart? That debt?  
Lavellan: Yeah. That debt.  
Hawke: Talk to Varric, later. Eventually. He’ll most likely know how to get into contact with me. Or, well (laughs) is also too much of a stubborn arse not to succeed trying.  
Lavellan: All right.  
Hawke: Tell me how it goes with Cole. And Lavellan?  
Lavellan: …  
Hawke: I’ll try.


	31. it's where the demons hide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are certain times when Cullen's complete lack of tact is far more desirable than subtly or diplomacy.
> 
> Like that one war table request with the darkspawn and pretentious nobles or some sort. His response: Do we need such allies? March.
> 
> It was indeed a satisfying end report for all around.
> 
> (Sleeplessness, like tonight, makes me the same way.)

Gisele: Clearly you see the risk.  
Cullen: Mmm.  
Giselle: It does not do for the Herald of Andraste to be seen in such close quarters with - Commander?  
Cullen: Yes?  
Gisele: Are you even hearing a word I speak?  
Cullen: (turns page in report) Not really.  
Giselle: Commander-!  
Cullen: Are you aware Fade rift activity in the Hinterlands has caused an increased appearance of the herb Embrium? I did not.  
Giselle: You are not taking me seriously.  
Cullen: Hmm. (sets report aside, folds hands) Who, then, were you speaking of, Mother Giselle?  
Giselle: Clearly -  
Cullen: - our Red Jenny? Or perhaps the Ben-Hassrath? An elven apostate?  
Giselle: …  
Cullen: I just don’t understand why you people keep singling out Dorian Pavus, among our assortment of...other colorful personalities.  
Giselle: …  
Cullen: Because he’s from Tevinter? I don’t believe the Chant contains anything on nationalism, Mother Giselle. Certainly not on prejudices.  
Giselle: ...Commander...  
Cullen: Because he’s a mage? I’m sure you’ve heard him, frequently, decrying the accusation he is a Magister, but I assure you that we have looked into the matter.  
Giselle: And?  
Cullen: They were quite...polite, until I mentioned Dorian’s name. What followed is a collection of words, I daresay, that are not meant to be repeated in mixed company.  
Giselle: I see your point, Commander but -  
Cullen: I don’t think you do. See, I might understand your concern. Has the Herald been acting strangely?  
Giselle: Well -  
Cullen: For a Dalish elf, Mother Giselle. Do be cautious.  
Giselle: I...see.  
Cullen: Clearly, it benefits Corypheus to have his human name revealed to the entire world, yes? His forces do not attend him based on fear, misinformation, and yes, perhaps some willingly, but far more in desperation?  
Giselle: You appear to be far more sympathetic to our enemies than is wise, Commander.  
Cullen: I am sympathetic to life, Mother Giselle. Otherwise I would not be a decent Military Commander.  
Giselle: That is not -  
Cullen: Surely you’ve heard Lavellan and Dorian’s disagreement over the treatment of Alexius? Or slavery in Tevinter? Slavery in general? On the merits of plaidweave as a legitimate fashion choice?  
Gisele: Excuse me?  
Cullen: Our Inquisitor is a Dalish elf, Mother Giselle. I daresay, clearly he should, of any of us, have the worst opinion of Dorian. But obviously he has eyes, is capable of critical thinking, and has a fair bit of courage...even simply remaining as he does, refusing any increased guard or other protection we or Cassandra propose.  
Giselle: You trust the Inquisitor’s opinion of the Tevinter.  
Cullen: Dorian.  
Giselle: What?  
Cullen: You seem to have forgotten most people have names, and we generally do not simply refer to them by country of origin.  
Giselle: (weary sigh) You are impossible, Commander.  
Cullen: You are not the first of this opinion, Mother Giselle. Have a nice day. I really must finish this...fifty page...most...delightful analysis of Fade Rift effects on animal and fauna life in the Hinterlands, the Storm Coast, and most recently Crestwood.  
Giselle: I will speak to...Dorian and the Inquisitor directly, then.  
Cullen: And did we even need to waste precious time with this pointless conversation?


	32. ser fred, the abomination

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's apparently a glitch where creatures who would normally be enemies won't show up as little red dots on the radar, and sometimes even aid you in battle.
> 
> Most people get like, fuzzy little bears and foxes and shit. This is what I got.

Cullen: What is _that_?  
Lavellan: That. Yeah, I can explain that.  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: Okay, so I can’t really. It wouldn’t leave me alone?  
Cullen: It wouldn’t - why didn’t you just kill it?  
Lavellan: (shrugs) It wasn’t trying to kill me. Seemed kind of rude, really.  
Cullen: Rude -  
(abomination shrieks)  
Lavellan: (reprovingly) I think you scared it, Commander. There there, Ser Fred.  
Cullen: I scared _it_ \- Wait. You named it? Of course you named it.  
Lavellan: He looked like a Fred.  
Cullen: You’re not going to…(sighs) Of course you’re going to keep it.  
Lavellan: Emprise du Lion is a big place, it can stay there. Away from the town, the camps. It’ll be fine.  
Cullen: Inquisitor, surely you’ve had worse ideas...though I cannot think of any at the moment, to be quite honest, but this...  
Lavellan: You and the other advisors told me I needed a hobby. Besides killing things.  
Cullen: We meant chess, or knitting or, or... _something normal_.  
(Ser Fred shrieks louder)  
Lavellan: He was a person once, Commander. A Templar.  
Cullen: (sighs)  
Josephine: Surely you aren’t agreeing with this ridiculous proposal, Commander.  
Cullen: (shrugs helplessly)  
Leliana: (thoughtfully) Who would suspect a spy among the abominations themselves? Hmm. I can use this.  
Josephine: There is something wrong with all of you.  
(Ser Fred shrieks happily)


	33. besties

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had this one planned out a while ago, but had trouble converting it into this form. It has lost a few things in transition, unfortunately, but that's what expanding on it is for, no?

Cassandra: Are you...pining?  
Dorian: Me? Pine? Clearly you must be confusing me with someone else, Seeker. Someone far less handsome and charming, I’m sure. I do not pine. I don’t have to. Who wouldn’t want all of...this?  
Cassandra: Perhaps Inquisitor Lavellan?  
Dorian: Lavellan’s made his interests quite clear, don’t you think? One does, however, wonder what he sees in Bull. The man has no finesse. Perhaps he has a qunari fetish?  
Cassandra: (disgusted noise)  
Dorian: (sighs) That was unfair, you’re right. Maybe it’s all the muscles? Iron Bull does have an impressive musculature, I must admit...What?  
Cassandra: Stop avoiding the subject.  
Dorian: The subject of qunari physique, you mean? Well, well, well Seeker, you surprise me...  
Cassandra: You should tell him.  
Dorian: Absolutely not.  
Cassandra: You’d rather suffer? Silently?  
Dorian: Oh, it is infinitely preferable to…  
Cassandra: (gently) To?  
Dorian: (snaps) To losing the only real friend I’ve ever had. All right? You found me out, Seeker. Are you happy?  
Cassandra: Not even remotely. You should tell him.

Dorian: (shrieks)  
Dorian: …  
Dorian: (sets book down, carefully) Now, Inquisitor, where would we be if I made the rest of you as red as your hair simply because you lack the ability to greet someone civilly?  
Lavellan: You love it.  
Dorian: (mutters) That’s most of the problem, I’m afraid.  
Lavellan: You know...you could’ve told me.  
Dorian: (sighs) Can’t we just forget about my unfortunate, pathetic...crush and get back to the evil darkspawn hunt, slaying dragons in sub-zero temperatures, insulting your horrid fashion choices and etc.?  
Lavellan: I wouldn’t have brought it up if Cassandra hadn’t told me you were worried about our friendship.  
Dorian: Oh, for a fade rift to open right here and now and swallow me, yes I’ll take one, please. And one for the Seeker.  
Lavellan: Don’t be too mad at Cassandra. I sort of badgered it out of her. I think she was worried.  
Dorian: About me? My dear, misguided Inquisitor, surely the Seeker merely wished my pining, as she called it, her words not mine, to end.  
Lavellan: Dorian, you once told me you’d never had many friends...and I didn’t tell you at the time, but I hadn’t either.  
Lavellan: Your friendship means a lot to me. I want you to know that.  
Dorian: …  
Dorian: Inquisitor? ...Besties, then?  
Lavellan: (smiles)


	34. are you a(ware) wolf?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah Lavellan is more perceptive than Solas ever gave him credit for. He's also a little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to write serious, ~~potentially smexy~~ , things, and instead...wolf puns. All I got are wolf puns.

Lavellan: Hey, Cole. Knock knock.  
Cole: Who is knocking? Is there a door? Someone should see who is there.  
Lavellan: (sighs) No...you say “who’s there?”  
Cole: All right. Who’s there?  
Lavellan: A Fred.  
Cole: A Fred? Who is A Fred -  
Lavellan: Who’s a fred of the big bad wolf?  
Solas: …

Dorian: Inquisitor, tell me we near whatever you’re looking for.  
Lavellan: The hunter said this was the general area…  
Dorian: Wonder of wonders, we find nothing...in the giant expanse of nothingness.  
Lavellan: Hmm -  
Solas: No.  
Lavellan: - perhaps the hunter -  
Solas: _No._  
Dorian: Eh?  
Lavellan - was crying wolf after all!  
Dorian: Inquisitor? Why is Solas looking at you like that?  
Lavellan: Like what?  
Dorian: Well, to put it bluntly...like he wants to -  
Lavellan: - take a bite out of me?  
Dorian: No, not exactly - but that sounds delightfully kinky. Do tell.  
Lavellan: I know I’m one fine wolf, Solas, but buy me dinner first.  
Dorian: Okay. Okay, now he just looks like he wants to kill you.  
Lavellan: (laughing) Just kidding. I love you to the moon and back, Solas!  
Dorian: What are you even talking about?  
Varric: Elves, sparkler. Just... _elves_.

Dorian: Oh, look. A dragon. What a perfect way to ruin our day.  
Iron Bull: Dragon? _Where?_  
Solas: Inquisitor -  
Lavellan: Aww, come on Solas! Get with the pack! We’re goin’ dragon huntin’!  
Solas: I regret meeting you.

Lavellan: Hey Bull, how was dinner?  
Iron Bull: A little skimpy, now that you ask. Think there might be leftovers?  
Lavellan: Probably. Just try not to wolf them down so fast this time, yeah?  
Solas: (sighs)

(standing near dragon corpse)  
Lavellan: Well that was a howlin’ good time, wasn’t it?  
Solas: (disapproves)

Lavellan: (snickering)  
Dorian: Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: (still snickering) Well, look at it. It’s a -  
Solas: Don’t say it.  
Lavellan: It’s a pupsicle!  
Lavellan: Because it’s a wolf? And it’s frozen?  
Dorian: …?  
Lavellan: You people don’t know humor.

Lavellan: Werewolf?  
Lavellan: There a wolf!  
Cole: But I don’t understand. Is it behind Solas?  
Solas: (greatly disapproves)


	35. kill ALL the rams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, finally got my save properly imported through DA Keep. Started Elijah over. Decided dual wielding looked like fun! What could go wrong!
> 
> :|

Lavellan: _That’s it_!  
Cassandra: (alarmed) Inquisitor? Are you harmed?  
Lavellan: (building up to a rant) Kill the rams, he said. Get meat for the refugees, he said. They don’t run at first sight of bloody fucking knives, he said!  
Solas: ...Inquisitor?  
Varric: Maybe we should just back away. Slowly…  
Lavellan: I’ll show those right arses. Shoot ALL the mother-  
Varric: Well, hey, your friendly neighborhood dwarf here. Storyteller extraordinaire. Maybe you’ve heard of me?  
Cassandra: What are you doing, Varric?  
Varric: Protecting the ears of our younger viewers.  
Solas: (snorts) I highly doubt the Inquisitor has “young viewers” with that mouth of his.  
Varric: Still...we will return momentarily once the Inquisitor has, er, calmed down. Significantly.  
Varric: …  
Varric: Maker’s breath, someone get that bow away from him.  
Cassandra: (disturbed) Are ram legs supposed to bend that way?


	36. twins (er, sort of)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Er, sort of" because I'm not sure if I want them to actually be blood related or coincidentally similar looking so they just get _called_ twins. Backstory is serious business, yo.

Varric: You have a sister?  
Lavellan: Sort of. It’s complicated.  
Varric: Complicated? Complicated is working in the merchant’s guild, little elf. For a living.  
Lavellan: Then I have a sister. She looks like me.  
Varric: Twins?  
Lavellan: Sort - yeah. Yes.  
Varric: So there's a female version of you. A pair of reckless, ridiculously unlucky elven twins out there in the wild.  
Lavellan: Pretty much.

**Optional Companion Dialogue**

Cullen: …  
Cullen: Twins.  
Lavellan: Yes?  
Cullen: Two of...you. And she’s arriving at Skyhold?  
Lavellan: Within the week, as far as I know.  
Cullen: Maker preserve us.

Sera: More elves?  
Lavellan: Oh, come on. You like me.  
Sera: I _know_ you. That’s different, innit?  
Lavellan: Give her a chance?  
Sera: (grumbles)  
Sera: (mocking) Give her a chance! That never goes tits up over skirts!  
Lavellan: Sera.  
Sera: For you, all right? I guess. Don’t expect sunshine and roses, ya hear?  
Lavellan: From you? I think I’d die of shock.


	37. into the bog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dori Rori Pori Lollipop is indeed my nickname for Dorian. I thought Sera might approve.
> 
> Ps - Is that how you spell plaidweave?

Dorian: Oh, look. A lonely piece of plaidweave in the bog. I feel the same.  
Sera: Wut?  
Dorian: Dressing in plaidweave is considered a form of social suicide in certain circles in Tevinter. And...it is weary. As I am. Of this bog.

Dorian: Inquisitor, if you jump in the water _one_ more time I swear -  
Sera: Why you got to collect all the weird shite?  
Sera: What are you even gonna do with diseased corpse tissue?  
Dorian: Should you even be touching that?  
Dorian: Wasn’t it...plague ‘round these parts? Why they’re all dead?  
Sera: Got a plague of Dori Rori Pori Lollipop, right here.

Lavellan: There are two more landmarks in this swamp.  
Dorian: Bog.  
Lavellan: We are not leaving this swamp until we find them.  
Blackwall: Is it not a bog?  
Lavellan: Extra incentive to go out -  
Sera: - into the bog -  
Lavellan: - find these landmarks -  
Dorian: - in the bog -  
Lavellan: - and then we can leave -  
Blackwall: - the bog?  
Sera: Bog, bog, bog, bog!  
Lavellan: If you find a landmark, you never have to come here again. The next person who says the word “bog” however…  
Blackwall: Are you serious?  
Dorian: I’m no rogue, but tell me. You _are_ supposed to point the sharp, stabby end away from the bestie, yes?  
Blackwall: And not light it on fire.  
Sera: Run for it!  
(people scream)  
(explosion)  
The Recently Undead Now Deader Than Before: Do you _see_ this shit we put up with?


	38. nicknames become deadly

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just came up with the punchline here out of the blue and because I'm shit tired it became the funniest thing ever. So, of course Mahariel had to be the one to say it. For maximum painful hilarity value.

Mahariel: Solas Eggplant.  
Lavellan: (slightly hysterical) Maker, _no_.  
Solas: I do not follow.  
Mahariel: Your head. It’s shaped like an egg.  
Solas: (sighs) You are not the first to think so.  
Mahariel: But an egg is too obvious. So, eggplant.  
Solas: Masterful.  
Mahariel: Oh, I thought so. But I’m not done.  
Lavellan: I’m dying, a little. On the inside. But don’t mind me. Continue.  
Mahariel: Okay.  
Lavellan: (hyperventilating)  
Mahariel: You also have no soul.  
Solas: …  
Mahariel: So, Solas Eggplant.  
Solas: A pun. How delightful.  
Iron Bull: Boss? You...ah, all right?  
Lavellan: (whispering) _Wonderful_ , Bull, thank you for asking. We’re all going to die. And death’s name is Mahariel.  
Mahariel: Thank you for appreciating me.


	39. i hate the way i don't hate you at all (hate the way i hate liking you, maybe, possibly, too)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Hawke and Mahariel amuse the endless fuck out of me - they're the exact same person so they irritate the hell out of each other _all the time_.
> 
> Just so you know, nothing is in order in this pile of bullshit I call quality writing.

Hawke: Oh, Hawke stepped in the _poopy_.  
Mahariel: …  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: (to Mahariel) You ask.  
Hawke: (sighs dramatically) I just realized, my dear Warden -  
Mahariel: (very quietly) Don’t ever call me that again.  
Lavellan: Damnit, Hawke, _Zevran_? Really.  
Hawke: - that I have come to hate, despise, and totally revile your entire existence and the concept of you even existing in the same lifetime time frame as myself -  
Mahariel: Oh, this should be fun.  
Lavellan: You have a really odd definition of entertainment.  
Hawke: - so much that I think, and honestly don’t quote me on this, it may only be a passing illness and I will return to my proper faculties eventually -  
Mahariel: Unfortunately long winded though.  
Hawke: - but for the moment I believe I hate you so much I actually almost _like_ you.  
Lavellan: ...All right. Didn’t expect that.  
Mahariel: Scary, isn’t it?  
Hawke: You have no idea.

Hawke: Just one thing, really.  
Lavellan: But we were almost doing good!  
Mahariel: Yes?  
Hawke: I’m just not sure if you actually just don’t give a shit, about anything, or if you’re just bullshitting everyone because you have a sick sense of humor.  
Mahariel: (amused) Do I joke?  
Hawke: _Just answer the fucking question!_  
Mahariel: You may never know.


	40. elijah and the chargers (in five parts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Terrible puns has been in tag list for 40 chapters basically for the part with Krem.

Iron Bull: Skinner is... _grinning_.  
Lavellan: Do you really want to know?  
Iron Bull: You gave her more knives, didn’t you?  
Lavellan: Shiny ones. With little wolves carved into the hilt.

Iron Bull: Oh, by the way boss, Stitches wanted me to pass on his thanks for the blood lotus you gave him the other day.  
Lavellan: Enough then?  
Iron Bull: Seems like it.  
Lavellan: Good. He can replenish the party’s regenerative potions when he has a mind to, then.  
Iron Bull: All of them, boss?  
Lavellan: The fucking Mire, Bull.  
Iron Bull: Point taken.  
Iron Bull: Should I also talk to Rocky about grenades?  
Lavellan: If he promises to “experiment” far, far away from the stables.  
Iron Bull: Hey now, baby dragon set the roof on fire.  
Lavellan: For the last time Bull, dracolisk. And only because he ate one of Rocky’s “babies”.  
Iron Bull: ...And you didn’t kill him?  
Lavellan: Da’len was fine, after he belched out a stream of fire. Seemed happy, even.  
Lavellan: They grow up so fast.  
Iron Bull: ...Right.

Iron Bull: Why does Krem keep calling me incredible?  
Lavellan: You are quite impressive. All those muscles...mmm.  
Iron Bull: And adorable? I am not adorable!  
Lavellan: Beg to differ. You’re the one who likes to snuggle, remember.  
Iron Bull: Keeps telling me to be acceptable. Think he, uh, forgot about the horns. And the qunari part. Definitely that part.  
Lavellan: (snickers)  
Iron Bull: He said to blame you.  
Lavellan: (more snickering)  
Iron Bull: That it was all your fault.  
Lavellan: (yet more snickering)  
Iron Bull: And to tell you to have a commendable day.  
Lavellan: (actual tears, from laughing so hard)  
Iron Bull: Boss?  
Lavellan: I’m sorry. I can’t. I literally...can’t. It’s too much.  
Lavellan: Tell Krem - tell Krem that he’s unbearable, reprehensible, and expressing quite unacceptable behavior. I’m flexible, but this is just...terrible, lamentable, and above all untenable. Ask him if he is amenable to a truce or if I should prepare more...comprehensible terms.   
Iron Bull: (frustrated) I still don’t get it!

Iron Bull: Boss. You and Dalish, the other day? Were you really comparing bows with each other?  
Lavellan: Yes. I get caught too often in the melee.  
Iron Bull: (sighs) I’m aware.  
Lavellan: So we agreed. She has a blade on her bow for stabbing, so I should too. See? Made out of everite. Quite sharp, watch your fingers.  
Iron Bull: Everite? The crystal on her st-  
Lavellan: - bow, is everite? Yes. And I dare say, it’s improved my accuracy by at least ten percent.

Iron Bull: Krem says you and Grim sat on the floor of the tavern yesterday for three hours.  
Lavellan: Mmm-hmm.  
Iron Bull: Wasn’t it…  
Lavellan: Quiet? Quite, despite the surroundings. Do you know how much work I got done?  
Iron Bull: Work?  
Lavellan: Cullen gave me twenty-five pages of the report on rift effects on local environments. Twenty-five bloody pages.  
Iron Bull: Out of?  
Lavellan: Fifty.  
Iron Bull: Seems fair.  
Lavellan: (sighs) It is. Anyway, Grim helped me narrow down the three best sites that should be studied next. I’ll review with Cullen in the morning.  
Iron Bull: But he just grunts a lot.  
Lavellan: Very distinctively.


	41. hands, fists, and all manner of puns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blackwall recently received the appropriately named "sweetish fingers" sword to use in battle and it's just...indescribable. 
> 
> It's a giant. Iron. Hand. It has fingers!
> 
> Individual _fingers_!

Lavellan: That is quite an unique weapon, Blackwall.  
Blackwall: You think? Picked it up last battle. Stronger than my last but, and I can’t quite put my finger on it…  
Lavellan: It’s a hand. It’s, it’s a giant, iron hand.  
Blackwall: (amused) Yes. I’m still getting a handle on using it.  
Lavellan: Soon you’ll be fisting the enemy like a pro.  
Cassandra: Are you quite finished?  
Blackwall: Need a hand?  
Lavellan: Armed and dangerous!  
Blackwall: Shall we introduce the Iron Bull to the Iron Fist?  
Lavellan: I like that one.   
Blackwall: I aim to please.  
Lavellan: So does he. But, uh, he prefers to take...other things, in hand. If you know what I mean.  
Blackwall: An iron fist in a velvet glove?  
Lavellan: Yeah. Exactly. You know, you’re my right-hand man, Blackwall. You clearly have the situation well in hand.  
Cassandra: Can we return to the matter at hand?  
Cassandra: …  
Cassandra: Do not even _think_ it.  
Lavellan: The left hand doesn’t know what the right is doing, Blackwall. For shame.  
Cassandra: (disgusted noise)


	42. punched by the maker, courtesy of the herald of andraste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a real weapon that exists and it's a BOW.
> 
> It was practically made for rogue archer Elijah "I'm not your fucking messiah" Lavellan.

Blackwall: That’s an...interesting bow you’ve got there, Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: This? Huh, yeah, I guess.  
Blackwall: Might I inquire why you felt the need to name it...what was it again?  
Lavellan: Punched By the Maker.  
Blackwall: Yes.  
Lavellan: I didn’t. It’s etched into the bow itself. See, right here?  
Blackwall: (squints) Is that a smiley face right next to it?  
Lavellan: Well, now _that_ in particular I added myself. Fits the mood, yeah?

**Optional Companion Dialogue**

Varric: Herald of Andraste. Punched By the Maker. This shit practically writes itself.

Cassandra: (amused) Do you suppose it might keep the nobility in line?  
Lavellan: Always happy to try.

Sera: (snickers) So, wait. That means, when we kill Coryphenus -  
Lavellan: Corypheus.  
Sera - that’s what I said, innit? When we kill ‘im, he gets punched to death. By the Maker.  
Lavellan: (pauses) It does add a certain poetic justice, doesn’t it?

**Bonus!**

Random Noble(s): Is it true that the Herald of Andraste was saved from the Fade by -  
Lavellan: (shoots them) Ooooh, punched by the Maker himself. Guess you better find some new material.


	43. murder! + currently untitled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight rewrite of an in game conversation with Bull and Solas. Accompanied by cheery little title.

Solas: We have fought living men, with loves and families, and all that they might have been is gone.  
Lavellan: Er, sure. But we don’t go around killing people left and right!  
Iron Bull: Uh…  
Varric: That’s exactly what we do, little elf. Sometimes up, down, and center too. Backwards, once.  
Lavellan: Hey, I can’t control the trajectory of the leaping shot _while_ I’m leaping.  
Solas: (clears throat, pointedly)  
Lavellan: Yes. Right. Well, we don’t seek them out!  
Varric: What about -  
Lavellan: All the time! We don’t seek them out _all the time_!  
Solas: (pauses) This is true. Many people seem to just attack you on sight, Lavellan.  
Lavellan: Us.  
Iron Bull: Actually, no. Mostly just you.  
Lavellan: Well, that’s depressing.  
Iron Bull: Cheer up, boss. They stop chasing you once I smash 'em a couple times. Plus, they’re assholes.  
Solas: (sighs)

Lavellan: Dorian, why didn’t Alexius just make Felix a Warden?  
Dorian: A Grey Warden, you mean?  
Lavellan: They take those with the Blight, don’t they?  
Dorian: I imagine it’s the mother hen in him, as you’ve seen. Short leash. One wonders if they’d even have taken him in, as well.  
Lavellan: If they take everyone, I’m sure they’d accept a Tevinter. ...No offense to Krem.  
Dorian: Hey, what about me? He isn’t even _here_. I am!  
Lavellan: I’ve always liked Krem. I hardly even know you, yet.  
Dorian: (grumbles) Savage.  
Lavellan: _Vint_.  
Lavellan: (grinning) See? We're getting to know each other already!  
Dorian: (heavily sarcastic) Oh, I'm ecstatic. Truly.


	44. etiquette lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I imagine Lavellan had a...particularly difficult time adjusting to Orlesian tastes. Meaning, fought the entire way, kicking and screaming.

Varric: Uh, guys? Where’s the Inquisitor?  
Iron Bull: Think I see him...way back there.  
Varric: Lavellan? You okay?  
Lavellan: No.  
Varric: Can you walk?  
Lavellan: Oh, I can walk. I just refuse.  
Lavellan: How many bandits have we killed today?  
Vivienne: (promptly) At least twenty-five, my dear.  
Varric: That’s...that’s a lot.   
Vivienne: This does not account for the immense number of bears we have encountered, nor the despair and rage demons as well. The latter of which my staff was completely useless against, naturally.  
Varric: You counted everything we fought?  
Vivienne: An educated estimate. I merely required a sense of how much punishment to mete out to the Inquisitor when we return to Skyhold.  
Iron Bull: Is there something I should know, here?  
Vivienne: Good heavens, no. Etiquette lessons, dear. One imagines the Inquisition will eventually become inured to the most important and powerful houses of Orlais. Clearly, the Inquisitor cannot encounter these dignitaries covered in blood and grinning like a madman holding dead rabbit by the scruff of its neck for the kitchens. Among...other less than savory pastimes, so to speak.  
Lavellan: How long am I in for?  
Vivienne: (deliberate pause) You made me wade through actual pools of blood, my dear Inquisitor. My boots will require a cleansing most severe _before_ being even halfway suitable for the halls of Skyhold.  
Lavellan: (whines)


	45. not MY inquisitor! (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lavellan gets beat up a lot, by various means and in various ways. His companions have opinions.

Cassandra: (carrying incapacitated Inquisitor over shoulder)  
Cassandra: (quietly) You _must_ take more precautions, Lavellan.  
Varric: Hmm? What was that, Seeker?  
Cassandra: Nothing! I..I mean, ahem, I simply will not allow a friend to fall to a mere great bear.  
(great bear growls)  
Cassandra: (growls back) Deal. With. It.  
(great bear pauses, then pads away into the forest)  
Varric: Well...shit. Hey, Seeker, mind if I write you into my next book?  
Cassandra: Yes.  
Varric: Great!  
Cassandra: (frustrated growl) Yes. I mind.  
Varric: How about “One Woman: Conquering the Wildlife of Thedas”?  
Cassandra: …  
Varric: No? “The Bearly True Story of One Woman’s Quest to Murder All Bears in Thedas”? Subtitled “now with twice the disgust!”?  
Cassandra: That is a rather long title. Varric.  
Varric: You drive a hard bargain, Seeker. But I think I have it. “It’s a Bear’nough Life: the Official Bearography of Seeker Cassandra Allegra etc. Pentaghast”?  
Cassandra: You are clearly going to write this monstrosity no matter what I say, are you not?  
Varric: Pretty much.  
Cassandra: Fine. Choose the last title.  
Varric: So you approve?  
Cassandra: (snorts) It’s the one I will be least likely to murder you over, later.


	46. macwolf it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoilerish for certain Solas details, but seriously he _doesn't_ know what the Fade runes are? Pfft.
> 
> This? I don't even...
> 
> The inspiration's [here](http://youtu.be/J847OF_jZ20).

Solas: Something is odd about that rune, but I know not what.  
Lavellan: Seriously?  
Solas: I beg your pardon?  
Lavellan: _Seriously_?  
Varric: Uh...Inquisitor…?  
Lavellan: You’re the fucking Dread Wolf incarnate! You know enough about the Fade I worry about your infrequent exposure to, well, life! And you don’t know anything about these obviously Fadeified runes?!  
Varric: Fadeified?  
Lavellan: _It’s a word_.  
Solas: (pauses) How did you even -  
Lavellan: You spend, what, couple hundred years as a god, and you can’t figure this out?  
Lavellan: We, we got a giant hole in the Fade, veilfire, and, and a Varric -  
Varric: Hey.  
Lavellan: - build a portal to the Black City, for crying out loud!  
Lavellan: You used to be Dread “oh I study the Fade” Wolf, Dread “superior than thou” Wolf, Dread “oh can I talk anymore about the _Fade_ ” Wolf! Now you’re just...Mr. Dread “I’m bloody useless” Wolf!  
Varric: Are you getting any of this?  
Iron Bull: (shrugs) Nope.  
Lavellan: Dear Creators. Stuck saving the world with the Dread Wolf!  
(someone clears their throat, just out of frame)  
Lavellan: WHAT.  
Director: Er. Well, you see. Basically, you’re just...too early man.  
Lavellan: Oh, well...shit.  
Varric: Lavellan?  
Lavellan: Shit, shit, _shit_ \- yes Varric?  
Varric: What in the name of Andraste is going on? You know that guy?  
Lavellan: Ah. Right. Self-awareness, bad. I get it.  
Iron Bull: Self-what?  
Lavellan: Nevermind. Okay, people. Fourth wall, reconstructed!  
(time slowly winds back, before stopping)  
Solas: Something is odd about that rune, but I know not what.  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: (sits on floor, rests chin in hand)  
Lavellan: Really, Solas? Tell us more!  
Solas: You are glaring at me.  
Lavellan: I haven’t the slightest idea why.


	47. an artifact of my people!

Solas: I sense an artifact of my people nearby.  
Lavellan: _Our_ people.  
Solas: Hmm?  
Lavellan: It’s not your, it’s our. As in, you’re an elf. I’m an elf. We’re both elfy elfies.  
Solas: …?  
Lavellan: Nevermind. You guys just always forget, and you’re a fucking elf yourself. What’s your excuse?

Lavellan: This artifact sense of yours include a, I dunno, _locator beacon_ as to where, exactly, they are?  
Solas: I am afraid not, Inquisitor.  
Lavellan: Then what use is it?

Lavellan: Hey. Hey, Solas. Your magic sense tingling yet?  
Solas: (sighs) That joke was not amusing the last three times, and it is still not amusing now.  
Lavellan: You should have a thing.  
Solas: A thing.  
Lavellan: Yeah. I don’t know, wriggle your fingers a bit and talk in low, creepy voice.   
Lavellan: (wriggles fingers, talks in low, creepy voice) _I sense an elven artifact nearby_.  
Lavellan: Like that.  
Solas: I think not.  
Lavellan: Aww, you’re no fun. At least wear a hood and creep around all menacing-like?  
(Solas slightly disapproves)


	48. one rule, dorian and bandit, bandit, FOX

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The halla are _sacred_ Dorian, gosh.

Lavellan: ....  
Iron Bull: Well.  
Dorian: What?  
Iron Bull: You know what you just did?  
Dorian: Obviously not, thus the question.  
Sera: (snickering) You killed the deer.  
Iron Bull: The halla.  
Sera: Whatever.  
Iron Bull: But Sera, he’s very specific. Also very angry.  
Sera: Nice knowing you, magey.  
Dorian: What are you on about? You don’t respect the wildlife any more than I do.  
Sera: Lavellan’s got a mean arm with that bow. The one with the pointy arrows, yeah? Of death? I respect _that_.  
Lavellan: Dorian…  
Dorian: (eyeing him) Look Lavellan, it was an accident. It could have happened to anyone.  
Sera: ‘Cept it was you.  
Iron Bull: And three of them.  
Dorian: _Not helping!_  
Lavellan: Dorian, Dorian we had one rule. Just one.  
Dorian: Accident! Wait, wait - what’s with that glare? You would honestly kill me over a bloody deer?  
(absolute silence)  
Iron Bull: Might want to stop digging that grave. Any time.  
Sera: Learn how to count.  
Dorian: _This is serious!_

Cassandra: (draws sword) Bandits ahead!  
Lavellan: What? Who? How?! _Where_.  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: Cass. Cass, that’s a fox.  
Cassandra: It is not -  
Cassandra: …  
Cassandra: (sheepish) Oh. It is.  
Varric: Andraste’s tits. Lets find the Seeker a bear before she mistakes one of _us_ for dinner.  
Cassandra: (glares) Oh, yes. I will start with the short one.  
Lavellan: Well, me and Varric are both short. Which do you mean?  
Cassandra: The short and _plump_ one.  
Varric: Ouch, Seeker. That hurt. That was hurtful.


	49. five times lavellan and the iron bull caused solas to imitate vomiting (accompanied by exasperated vivienne)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a long title, but truly. Nothing else would suffice.

(about Parson’s Notebook)  
Iron Bull: I hope there’s something fun at the end of this.  
Lavellan: Demons. It’s probably demons. It’s _always_ demons, Bull.  
Iron Bull: (grumbling)  
Lavellan: Hey, you’re the one who offered if I needed a bodyguard. Bet you’re regretting it now.  
Iron Bull: Eh...still a pretty nice ass to guard.  
Solas: (makes retching noises)  
Vivienne: Honestly. 

Varric: Come now, Inquisitor! Turn that frown upside down. Keep growling like that and your face will freeze like Cullen’s.  
Varric: Spare yourself the torture.  
Lavellan: This _is_ my happy face.  
Varric: If so, little elf, I’d hate to see your angry one.  
Iron Bull: (tilts head) Dunno. Pretty hot, where I’m standing.  
Varric: Really?  
Iron Bull: Especially when it gets interrupted with this little breathy moan, when I -  
Solas: (retching intensifies)  
Vivienne: You are all children.

Slave: You’re the Inquisitor!  
Iron Bull: I know, I know, you thought he’d be taller.  
Lavellan: Hey.  
Iron Bull: (shrugs) They’re always thinking it.  
Lavellan: I’m an elf! I can’t help that I’m tiny!  
Iron Bull: Hey, never said all over.  
Solas: ...  
Vivienne: (sighs)

Sera: So, hey. You and the Inquisitor.  
Sera: Is he...all, y’know?  
Iron Bull: (laughs) The full package, you mean?  
Sera: (laughs) Worth the weird, glowy hand shite?  
Iron Bull: Yeah. Definitely.  
Solas: (retching noises)  
Iron Bull: There was hardly anything sexual in that, Solas.  
Solas: Apologies. It seems to have become an automatic response.  
Vivienne: How utterly delightful.

(upon entering a dank, dark cave)  
Vivienne: You always find the most lovely places to explore, my dear.  
Lavellan: Don’t I?  
Iron Bull: …  
Solas: Do not say it.  
Iron Bull: You don’t even know what I was going to say.  
Solas: You mean to make crass commentary on certain parts of the Inquisitor’s bodily anatomy and orifices.  
Solas: (pauses) Or _yours_.  
Iron Bull: Yeah, but you forgot the option where it could be _both_ , Solas.  
Vivienne: I worry for the future of the Inquisition. I truly do.


	50. this is the way a hawke dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 50 already eh? Idk when I should end this thing, so let's keep going yes?
> 
> I am definitely saving the world based on bullshit.

Hawke: Look, Solas. You have very, hmm. Strong opinions?  
Lavellan: Well thought through and intelligent...strongly held opinions.  
Hawke: Sure. But you do this thing? Fenris has this problem. You make up your mind and...that’s it.  
Hawke: Nothing will change it. Not even if you’re blatantly _wrong_.  
Lavellan: (pauses) Okay, so I can’t really argue that. Sorry.  
Hawke: So maybe, when you talk to people you’ve already made up your mind about, you come across as a…  
Mahariel: You sound like a dick. You’re a dick, sometimes.  
Solas: Cutting to the chase with your usual charm, I see.  
Hawke: He _did_ say only sometimes, you know. That’s a veritable declaration of love.  
Mahariel: …  
Solas: …  
Hawke: (laughs) Hey, Inquisitor, can you even _imagine_ the level of hate sex?  
Lavellan: (sighs) I wouldn’t eat or drink anything for the next few hours.  
Lavellan: Definitely don’t turn your back on either of them.  
Mahariel: I don’t need to touch someone to kill them.  
Solas: Agreed.  
Hawke: (still laughing) Scary elfy twins agree! Surely Varric will agree that’s some damn miracle, all right.


	51. harassing templars + not MY inquisitor! (2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /cringes
> 
> I haven't updated in forever but at least I have a good excuse. I found employment! Everybody say yay! But between that (it's physically demanding, plus nine hours 4-1 am) and restarting DA series over (currently on DA II) it's hard to find the time to write or the energy.
> 
> But I haven't given up on this. Nope, nope.

Lavellan: Well, hey. Look at that.  
Cassandra: (tenses) Inquisitor, we really should be going.  
Lavellan: Yeah, yeah. But just...wait. Wait a minute.  
Vivienne: He is not going to do what I -  
Sera: (snickering)  
Vivienne: What am I saying. Of course he is.  
Lavellan: (creeps up behind stranger, then whispers in his ear) _Blood magic_.  
Templar: (swings shield around wildly) Where?!  
(five minutes later)  
Vivienne: If I did not fear a concussion I would let this stand as a lesson, my dear.  
Lavellan: (laughs, then groans) Still worth it.

Vivienne: (resurrects Lavellan)  
Lavellan: That was...bracing. Thank you, Madam de Fer.  
Vivienne: (clucks her tongue) Now there, dear. We must not allow the enemy to incapacitate us so...gracelessly.  
Lavellan: But I almost died. As in for real. Kind of was...preoccupied with dying. For real. Maybe.  
Vivienne: Your hair is simply a mess, Inquisitor. I believe I see twigs. Here, let me straighten it into something resembling civilized.  
Lavellan: No, you don’t…(sighs) Thank you, Madam de Fer.  
Vivienne: Certainly, my dear. You must really let Leliana cut your hair. How you manage to shoot anything with all of it getting in your eyes is beyond me.  
Vivienne: And it hides those absolutely _adorable_ little ears of yours.  
Lavellan: Uhm. Personal choice? Most people aren’t...as enthusiastic? As you.  
Vivienne: (sighs) How do you manage to accumulate so much filth, Inquisitor? Come here.  
Lavellan: ...Okay…  
Vivienne: (wiping)  
Lavellan: I think you -  
Vivienne: (wiping intensifies) Hmm?  
Lavellan: It’s okay, I’m really good, I sw -  
Vivienne: (yet more wiping) Ah, yes. Cleaner already. But for this stubborn little spot right -  
Lavellan: _Lady Vivienne_!  
Vivienne: (indignant) How dare you speak to me in such a tone, young man?  
Lavellan: I’m sorry! It’s just - my face isn’t meant to rub off like that!  
Vivienne: What? Oh dear.  
Sera: (rolling around in the grass, laughing)  
Sera: You! You’re fussing!  
Vivienne: (flustered) I most certainly am not.  
Sera: Fussing! Fussing! _Fussing_!  
Vivienne: (grumbles)


	52. innuendo, shoes, and very special rams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live again! 
> 
> Lavellan and Dorian engage in witty repartee over jumping off a cliff, Lavellan first encounters shoes, and then remains clueless to the demon ram.

Dorian: Well. Plan? Oh fearless leader you.  
Lavellan: One. You're not going to like it.  
Dorian: Not going to like what -  
(Lavellan grabs Dorian by the arm and proceeds to jump off a cliff. They land in water below.)  
Dorian: (sputtering) Are you quite _mad_? Do you hear yourself speak?  
Lavellan: Over you? How could I?  
(Cliff explodes...somehow. Come on, it's magic shit.)  
Lavellan: (smug) Still want to be up there?  
Dorian: At least I'd be _dry_! You've gotten me wet in the most uncomfortable of places.  
Lavellan: ...  
Dorian: ...  
Dorian: Well, what's a little accidental innuendo between gay best friends?  
Lavellan: Do you hear _yourself_?

Lavellan: We've got to take a good long look inside and ask ourselves, "what are we willing to put up with today?"  
Josephine: Herald, it is just a pair of leather boots. The terrain of -  
Lavellan: Not fucking this!  
Josephine: (sighs)

Vivienne: Return the demon to the man who most likely summoned it? Preposterous.  
Iron Bull: Agreed.  
Iron Bull: (mutters) Demons...  
Dorian: Well, it didn't act very demony now did it?  
Varric: Because there's a handbook for this sort of thing.  
Dorian: One must wonder, however, why a ram?  
Varric: Better question, why a _pink_ ram?  
Lavellan: Wait. The ram was a _demon_?  
Vivienne: ...  
Dorian: Best to spell it out for him. Slowly. Use simple wording.  
Lavellan: Oh! Just because _one time_ I didn't figure out your "the company of men" meant -  
Varric: Anyway. What did you think it was, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: (defensive) A very special ram!


	53. the magic word

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /meep

Sera: All right, Not-Herald of No-Maker. Cut it out!  
Lavellan: (grins)  
Solas: (sighs) Do I even want to ask?  
Sera: Creepy plant fingers!  
Solas: ...  
Sera: Oh, shut it you. The spiky things, with the tentaclely...things. Fendris? Fehandriel?  
Solas: Felandaris?  
Sera: Right. What I said. Things no woman wants to find in her -  
Solas: _Lethallin_.  
Lavellan: (laughs) I don't know what you're on about, Sera.  
Sera: Like shite you don't. Things were all squashed and droopy. All crumbly. Stunted little bastards. _You_.  
Lavellan: Are you implying my gardening skills are -  
Solas: Nonexistant?  
Lavellan: Hey.  
Solas: You are many things, Inquisitor, but rest assured I would entrust you my own life before that of the simplest of herbs.  
Sera: (giggles) Got a funny in there somewhere, eh, egghead? Almost.  
Sera: I know it's you elfy!  
Lavellan: And?  
Sera: Wut?  
Lavellan: (patient) What's the magic word, Sera?  
Sera: Give you one arrow. You pick.  
Lavellan: (waits)  
Sera: Stop that.  
Lavellan: (still waiting)  
Sera: I said - urgh!  
Sera: ...please?!  
Lavellan: _And?_  
Sera: (grumbles) Elfies are fine, yeah? Now stop!  
Solas: (snorts) The sentiment lacks.  
Lavellan: I know she's lying through her teeth. I just wanted to make her say it.  
(Solas slightly approves)  
(Sera disapproves)


	54. josie's days of headaches: antagonize (3a)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next two are sort of related, if only in their picking fun at Orlais.

Runner: Petition to reinstate mistress Threnn as quartermaster, from the Inquisitor himself, lady Ambassador.  
Josephine: (to herself) I wasn't aware he even _remotely_ cared for Threnn, not after her opinions on Denerim's city elves during the Blight...  
Josephine: Does master Lavellan find fault with his current quartermaster?  
Runner: Not that he saw fit to inform me, Ambassador.  
Josephine: (sighs) He is aware of Threnn's "views" on Orlais?  
Runner: Yes, Ambassador.  
Josephine: I assume he has a reason for his conviction?  
(Runner clearly hesitates)  
Josephine: (sighs) Oh, dear.  
Runner: Apologies, my lady, but - the Inquisitor, he...he said "because fuck Orlais, that's why".  
Josephine: (wryly amused) The one subject they might agree on, I suppose. A master of compromise, truly, our Inquisitor.  
Josephine: Nonetheless, please inform master Lavellan antagonizing our allies is quite detrimental to the Inquisition's efforts to restore peace to Thedas. No matter how personally pleasing he may find such.  
Runner: Yes, my lady.


	55. josie's days of headaches: antagonize (3b)

Josephine: Mabari?  
Runner: The Inquisitor was most specific.  
Josephine: I will regret asking, however...  
Runner: Master Lavellan insists that they are mighty warriors in battle.  
Josephine: If they have a proper kennel and a master to train them. Both of which Skyhold does not.  
Josephine: I assume there were other reasons?  
Runner: They're cute.  
Josephine: Cute?  
Runner: According to the Inquisitor, everyone beyond lady Sera and the, very specific about the "the," Iron Bull are much too serious on a daily basis.  
Josephine: Thus...  
Runner:...puppies. Yes, my lady.  
Josephine: Mabari are a particular breed of dog. As a Free Marcher, I am most curious as to Lavellan's _true_ motivations.  
Runner: Apologies, my lady, but he was insistent that I run through the entire list.  
Josephine: He made a list?  
Runner: Several pages.  
Josephine: That young man...shall we skip to the end?  
Runner: But -  
Josephine: Please.  
Runner: I believe he intends to allow the dogs to get wet and covered in mud, and parade them through Skyhold when entertaining nobility from Orlais, lady Ambassador.  
Josephine: (pause)  
Josephine: He is aware Leliana would kill him?  
(Runner hands over piece of paper)  
Josephine: Oh, I cannot wait to hear this.  
Josephine: "A FINE WAY TO DIE". Well.  
Josephine: Put this request in the to be considered pile, if you would.


	56. the pure bastion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha...ha. So work and a descent into The Elder Scrolls: Tamriel Unlimited make for a distracted author!
> 
> Slight spoilers for “The Descent” dlc, but it’s really just the name of one of the levels (we be in “The Pure Bastion” here abouts, which has a lot of lyrium) in the dlc. Also a character. But otherwise, not much.

Lavellan: Valta...those glowing lights near the ceiling.  
Valta: Yes, Inquisitor?  
Lavellan: They appear similar to lyrium.  
Valta: Hmm. Anything is possible, I suppose. There is still so much we do not understand about lyrium, despite its importance both to Orzammar and the surface.  
Dorian: But if lyrium is in the air…  
Varric: We could be breathing in raw lyrium particles as we speak. Andraste’s _tits_ Inquisitor, you’ve found something almost worse than the red shit.  
Lavellan: Is it even safe to be near so much lyrium so close to the surface here?  
Valta: It...probably.  
Dorian: _Probably_ , she says!  
Valta: I am not of the mining caste. I know little more about the particulars of lyrium than any present at this time. So it is _probably_ safe. If we do not linger.  
Varric: Comforting.


	57. elijah "wins"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So you know what? Decided Hawke and Mahariel accompany Inquisitor and party into the Crossroads in “Trespasser”. Because I can. Slight spoilers for the newest dlc for Inquisition, but not too terrible.

Mahariel: Hmm.  
Hawke: Hmm?  
Mahariel: We are close to being physically in the Fade, in this...in-between place? Which is “out of sorts,” the polite term for going to shit. And the only way to get around is through mirrors like the one still killing me.  
Hawke: Shit.  
Lavellan: I didn’t even think about -  
Mahariel: What? Oh, the mirror thing. I try not to dwell on it. Here, they’re useful. Not corrupted. It’s fine.  
Hawke: (mutters) You’re not even trying, anymore.  
Lavellan: Yes, well...what - what were you saying?  
Mahariel: Simply that you win.  
Lavellan: I...win?  
Mahariel: This is officially the worst “almost” trip into the Fade we’ve ever collectively been on.


	58. leather and lace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bull is naughty and lavellan is exasperated. 
> 
> ...and intruiged. maybe a little.

Lavellan: Bull, can I - can I ask you something?  
Lavellan: You, you’re okay?  
Bull: Boss?  
Lavellan: I mean, this. With me. Us.  
Bull: (chuckles) Yeah. Yeah, I’m - I’m better than okay.  
Bull: But you know that.  
Lavellan: I just - you never really…  
Bull: Ask?  
Lavellan: Yeah. I can’t help but think -  
Bull: See, I’ve been failing you. You’re still thinking.  
Lavellan: Bull.  
Bull: (sighs) Okay, kadan. You get this thing, right?  
Bull: A rush. When I order you around. Push you up against a wall.  
Bull: Whisper in your ear how _good_ you are.  
Lavellan: (shifts)  
Bull: (laughs) Like right now.  
Bull: (closer, softer) You don’t think you get a rise out of me, every time you do that?  
Bull: Every time you trust?  
Bull: ...Though, there is this one thing.  
Lavellan: Name it.  
Bull: Think you’d look real hot in lace.  
Lavellan: Bull!  
Bull: High quality shit. Black, to bring out your eyes.  
Bull: The red rope, too.  
Lavellan: Bull…  
Bull: Just think about it. I know how sensitive your skin is.  
Lavellan: …  
Lavellan: Okay, so maybe. Quit looking so smug.


	59. the war on demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> blackwall wut are u doin lol

Blackwall: I may not be trained to fight demons from the sky, but show me someone who is.  
Lavellan: ...  
Hawke: ...  
Mahariel: ...  
Blackwall: ...  
Blackwall: What?  
Lavellan: I fought a pride demon within hours of waking up from my first trip into the Fade.  
Hawke: In Kirkwall, all we did _was _fight demons...__  
Mahariel: What am I, chopped liver?!  
Blackwall: I didn't mean anything -  
Lavellan: Two rifts before we found you. Two. You know, demons come out? Of those?  
Hawke: ...some ancient demon sealed in blood sacrifices around Mt. Sundermount...  
Hawke: Incidentally, _not_ one of my better choices really.  
Mahariel: The sloth demon. Fucker's domain filled to the brim with demons.  
Mahariel: Couldn't take a shit without turning around and hitting a demon with your fucking -  
Blackwall: _Maker_.


	60. i reject your reality and substitute my own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> solas/fen'harel allows elijah lavellan to ask him questions. solas/fen'harel should not have allowed elijah lavellan to ask him questions.

Solas: I suppose you have questions. I owe you that much, at least.

Lavellan: So are you a shapeshifter?  
Solas: That is...not what I expected you would inquire.  
Lavellan: I know. So? Anthropomorphic wolf, or neat party trick?  
Solas: …  
Solas: I also suppose I was asking for this.  
Lavellan: Yup.

Lavellan: Okay, let me get this straight.  
Lavellan: You destroyed one world by creating this veil.  
Lavellan: And now you want bring it back. By releasing this veil.  
Solas: Yes.  
Lavellan: You know what they call doing the same shit over and over again and expecting different results?  
Solas: …

Lavellan: I realize you’ve made a decision, Solas.  
Solas: (relieved) Thank you, Inquisitor. I had thought -  
Lavellan: But given it’s a _stupid ass_ decision, I’ve elected to ignore it.  
Solas: (resigned) - you would react exactly like that.

Lavellan: What are you going to do about the other evanwhatevers?  
Solas: (situationally appropriate face) I have a plan.  
Lavellan: You've got a plan.  
Solas: ...  
Solas: Yes.  
Lavellan: I don't believe you even have an idea.  
Solas: I have... _part_ of a plan.  
Lavellan: (laughs)  
Solas: Inquisitor -  
Lavellan: (continues laughing)  
Lavellan: That was the most real, authentic hysterical laugh of my entire life!  
Lavellan: Because THAT is not a plan.  
Lavellan: THAT is your life falling apart hilariously because -  
Lavellan: (voice rising) YOU'RE A BRILLIANT MAGE BUT A SHITTY LEADER!

Lavellan: Listen, you anthropomorphic wolf fuck -  
Solas: I do not believe I ever answered that particular inquest.  
Lavellan: Listen.  
Lavellan: You don’t have to do this. I’ll prove it to you.  
Lavellan: Because you’re _family_ , you ass. So, so listen. Family means no one gets left behind.  
Solas: …  
Lavellan: Even if you have supplanted _Blackwall_ in the shitty life making decisions department.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did anyone else laugh when solas said "i have a plan"? because i did. heartily.
> 
> yes that is a GOTG quote, you smart little bug, you.


	61. the wildlife 6: golden halla

Sera: Can’t I just -  
Lavellan: No.  
Sera: It won’t even hurt!  
Sera: ...that much.  
Lavellan: Sera.  
Sera: A _little_ sting. See, little. Bee sting. Bug bite.  
Lavellan: (frustrated) You are not shooting the halla in the ass!  
Sera: (groans)

Sera: Who’s going straight?  
Sera: (dramatic pause) Not even the damn halla!  
Sera: (giggles) Get it? _Straight_ , ‘cause the camp is over there. But it sounds like -  
Dorian: We’re all quite homosexual. Yes. We understand.  
Solas: I beg your pardon.  
Sera: Stuff it, baldy.  
Dorian: You realize we do know how you look at Lavellan when you think he’s not looking, yes?  
Lavellan: What?  
Sera: (giggles)  
Solas: If I should happen to turn my gaze Lavellan’s way, it is only -  
Sera: (kissy noises)  
Solas: Even if I _were_ , the correct term would be -  
Sera: (kissy noises intensifies)  
Solas: I despise you all.  
Dorian: (laughs)

Sera: Know what that is?  
Lavellan: ...a rock?  
Sera: Congrats, yeah. A rock. Same damn rock we passed five minutes ago.  
Sera: Look! Deer’s making another turn!  
Lavellan: (stresses the word) Halla.  
Sera: _I wonder what’s gonna happen next!_  
Solas: A headache.


End file.
